


I’ve Always Dreamed of Meeting Someone Like You

by ColorfulWarlock



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Abusive Parents, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Bad Parent Maryse Lightwood, Bad Parent Robert Lightwood, Bubble of joy baby Max, CEO Magnus Bane, Car Accident (Past), F/M, Fashion Designer Magnus Bane, Fluff, Game Designer Alec Lightwood, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Major Character Injury, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Single Parent Magnus Bane, Strangers to Partners to Lovers, mention of PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 65,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24796570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulWarlock/pseuds/ColorfulWarlock
Summary: It began with a hit-and-run accident.Magnus had a good life. The job of his dreams, dear friends and his adorable son.But he lost his "magic" after an accident and couldn't draw anymore.Until a kindhearted man came to his life. First, to take care of his son. Then, to help with his business.Maybe, along the way, even mend his broken heart.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Max Lightwood-Bane, Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Jem Carstairs/Tessa Gray/Will Herondale, Magnus Bane & Max Lightwood-Bane, Magnus Bane & Ragnor Fell & Catarina Loss & Raphael Santiago, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood
Comments: 371
Kudos: 530





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jsq86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jsq86/gifts).



> Hi, people <3  
> Welcome to a new Human AU! For this one in special, I'm trying some different things.
> 
> First, this will have a weekly update! So, every Friday you will get a new chapter 😉  
> Second, this is my first time going with book!Malec, so yeah... blue-eyed Alec and taller Magnus.  
> Third, as you can see from the tags, there will be a difference of 15 years between Alec (23) and Magnus (38). I wanted to keep that part of canon where Magnus is way more experienced in life than Alec, and since immortality is obviously out of question here, this was my solution. Some people may not like, but they are both consenting adults and respect each other. 
> 
> [Louise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halmaithor/pseuds/Halmaithor), my amazing parabatai, thank you so much for bearing with me and beta-ing this whole story <3
> 
> [Jessi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jsq86/pseuds/Jsq86), this is for you, sweet angel 💙 Also, congratulations again for your 1,5k followers!! ✨

It began with a hit-and-run accident.

For a while, Magnus Bane had lived a perfect life - which was a far cry from how it started, mind you. He’d come a long way since the days of his father’s abuse and then almost merciful abandonment, since the death of his mother and stepfather, since spending the last decade of his childhood in the system, clawing his way up and out and into the fashion industry. 

Getting there was like his first breath of fresh air, and he had the talent to make the most of every bit of luck he could scrounge up. Some whispered that his hands were surely magical, unmatched by any others in this world. His designs were gorgeous, coming to life as clothes that looked as if they had been plucked straight from a couturier’s dream. He wielded color and texture and shape with a master’s eye and a feather-light touch, every aspect matched together with elegance and beauty.

At 25, he was already famous worldwide. 

At 28, he struck out on his own and built his own fashion company. 

At 31, he won his first Oscar for Best Costume Design in a critically-acclaimed fantasy movie - and at that moment, after everything he’d been through, it was easy to feel giddy and victorious and _invincible._

But of course, not even Magnus Bane was immune to the cruel pranks of fate. 

At 32, he got his heart shattered by a woman he’d loved with all his being.

Two weeks later, he was the victim of a hit-and-run accident. It was an ugly, long recovery, bruising blossoming all down his torso but almost an afterthought as he underwent three different surgeries. 

And he survived.

Well... _Most_ of him survived.

His hands had been irreparably damaged. The bones had healed, but nothing in the world could save the nerves. Even with daily physiotherapy sessions, they didn’t get better - not fully. His fingers were always a little crooked now, the pain unbearable at times, the elastic splint now a permanent fixture. But despite the difficulty, he could still do a lot with them. And his doctors, nurses, friends - they all told him it was a miracle. After all, he still had _use_ of them; he wouldn’t have to relearn how to pick things up, how to eat and open doors and bathe. And when the pain came, he could soothe it away with touch and medication, rather than desperately trying to convince his brain of a phantom’s falsehood. 

Yet all of that, however wonderful and miraculous it was, seemed almost insignificant in the face of what he’d _lost_ . Because his hands were dull, lifeless tools now, unable to even hold a pencil without cramping. His art, his oft-accused _magic..._ It was gone. 

For a long time, he drowned the hopelessness with alcohol.

It wasn’t until a year after the accident that a small hope finally sparked inside of him. While visiting the orphanage where his best friend worked, he met an adorable baby who was abandoned there a few weeks prior - and the wheels in his head, dulled by despair for so long now, started to slowly turn. He had the money to raise a child, had a big loft for them to grow up in, a full and stable support system in place. 

He made a decision - and a matter of months later, Magnus was the single parent of a blue-eyed bubble of joy, one that reached out with grabby little hands and a gurgling laugh and somehow mended a piece of Magnus’ broken heart.

With his hope renewed and the lure of the bottle growing ever more distant, he did the only thing he could, the only thing he knew _how_ to do. 

He worked his ass off. 

Okay, so he couldn’t draw. He still had an entire staff who _could,_ didn’t he? He still had his company to manage, had runways to coordinate and contracts to sign and ideas to share with the world.

But somewhere along the way, the magnificent Magnus Bane lost his will to be truly happy.

~*~ 

Magnus was in the middle of reviewing a sales report when the envelope was thrown on his desk, almost smacking him over the head. Huffing out a long-suffering sigh, he glanced up to meet the gaze of the only person bold enough to cause such a disturbance without an ounce of guilt.

“What do you want, Ragnor?” It wasn’t just Ragnor, though, he could also see Raphael entering his office, placing folders with the latest swatch requests inside his _‘ideas’_ cabinet.

Why bother with a secretary when these two – plus Cat – would barge in whenever they felt like?

Ragnor scowled at him. “You need to stop scaring your staff, you bloody idiot. Not half an hour ago, I caught another junior designer crying in the bathroom - full-on sobbing, mind you - because you yelled at him.”

Magnus sighed. “So, this is another resignation letter, then?” The corner of his lips twitched upwards in a rueful smile, but he didn’t move to open the envelope just yet.

“No,” Ragnor admitted begrudgingly. “Luckily for you, you pay well enough that people are _apparently_ willing to put up with the occasional tantrum. I’m warning you, though - if you don’t calm down, you’ll have to raise their salaries for it to stay that way, and then you really will go bankrupt.” Ragnor served himself a cup of tea from Magnus’ coffee table sitting on the large, comfy sofa in the room. “And that’s not a friendly warning, by the way. I’m speaking on behalf of Legal & Finance, here.”

“I’m not too worried,” Magnus said airily. “Sales are performing well, contracts are stable, and even the side businesses are turning profit this quarter.” Magnus poked at the envelope, his manicure perfect above the crooked joint. “So, if this _isn’t_ a resignation letter, what is it?”

Ragnor raised an eyebrow. “Another letter from Camille’s lawyer. Insisting - surprise, surprise - that you still owe her a part of your company, after all of her ‘support’ whilst you were together.” He snorted, disdain clear on his face.

Magnus scoffed, throwing the offending paper into the garbage can. “You should have just burned it.”

“Wanted to give you the pleasure,” Ragnor said lightly, smirking as he sipped at his tea.

Magnus rolled his eyes, focusing once again on the report. He would need to stamp it and then let Ragnor sign it - it was such a waste of time, but it wasn’t like he had a choice, being as he couldn’t even sign his name properly anymore. To avoid any legal problems, they had come up with this ‘dual signing’ solution – Magnus would emblazon the document with the unique design of the _Approved_ stamp in his desk drawer, and then Ragnor would sign on the dotted line, sealing the deal and giving the necessary legal weight. 

Magnus glanced back up, his mouth open to ask for Ragnor’s signature - but it was at that moment he noticed the _suit._

“Fucking hell, Ragnor,” he said, despairingly. “How many green suits do you have? You work in the fashion industry, couldn’t you add a _little_ more color to your wardrobe?”

Ragnor wrinkled his nose in near-disgust. “Raphael only wears black, and you never complain about that,” he protested.

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Wearing all black hardly makes a statement the way green does, my chlorophyllic friend.” He smirked, dropping his voice to a stage whisper. “Besides, these are _human_ fashion rules,” he insisted, “and I grow more certain by the day that Raphael is at _least_ half-vampire.” 

That earned him a hard glare from Raphael, which he thoroughly and happily ignored. 

As did Ragnor, rounding on Magnus once more. “At least _he_ doesn’t come to work looking as if he is going to some sort of lewd party,” he challenged. “For a man who claims to enjoy clothing, you don’t exactly wear a lot of it.” He gestured towards Magnus’ low neckline, and then vaguely towards the artful cut-outs and slits on his lower half.

“Ah, such is my cross to bear, Ragnor.” He winked. “After all, mythology tells us that the handiwork of the gods ought not to be hidden from the world.” 

Ragnor made a fake gagging noise, and Raphael scowled. “Gross,” he muttered, shoving the last folder deep in the cabinet and then turning to leave the office.

Magnus gave a false gasp of outrage. “Don’t forget who pays you, Santiago!” he threatened. 

“I don’t care,” Raphael retorted, slamming the door closed behind him.

“Slander!” Magnus yelled after him, before sitting back in his chair with a scoff. “The audacity…”

“Yes. I’m very proud of him,” Ragnor snickered, ignoring Magnus’ glare.

“You are ridiculous, Ragnor.”

“So are you. I don’t keep shoving it back in your face, though.” He paused, as if thinking, and then smirked. “Well. Actually, scrap that. I do.”

Magnus groaned, letting his forehead fall against his desk and breathing deeply. 

They stayed in a fairly comfortable silence for a while after that, Magnus frowning down at his paperwork whilst Ragnor sat across the room with a second cup of tea, waiting for his signature to be needed again. 

When Ragnor broke the spell of quiet, this time, his voice was serious. “You’re worried about Paris.”

It wasn’t a question, and sometimes Magnus didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse that his friends could read him so well. “The investment this year will be huge,” he said. “If we can garner enough attention with this new collection, the new buyers and contracts should put us in good stead for the future. I won’t need to worry about the company for at least a year, maybe two.” There were few events that held that kind of sway over a company’s fortunes, of course, but Magnus had long since learned that Paris Fashion Week was one of them. 

Ragnor arched an eyebrow. “What’s this? Already thinking about retirement, old man?” He leaned left, dodging the pen Magnus threw at him with only an unimpressed twitch of an expression.

Magnus huffed, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms. “I’ll have you know that I’m in my prime, thank you very much.” His voice lowered, his demeanor turning serious again. “Actually, I was thinking about taking a sabbatical year. After all, it’s been years since I took a real vacation. There are so many places I want to visit, and this could be a good opportunity for that.” He averted his gaze, swallowing before he continued. “And also… I was hoping to investigate a few new treatments,” he said, trying to keep his tone mild, unstrained.

He cleared his throat, looking back up at Ragnor with a smile. “Also, Max is growing up so fast. I’d like to spend more time with him - teach him new things, show him new places. He deserves an involved father.”

Ragnor’s smile didn’t reach his lips, but it softened around his eyes, all traces of challenge and teasing gone. “Magnus, you are a wonderful father,” he said gently. “Max loves you so much.” He leaned forward to put down his now-empty teacup, his gaze turning insistent. “And at some point, you’re going to have to accept that the mistakes of the past are not yours to repeat.”

Magnus hummed, though he couldn’t quite bring himself to agree - not in so many words. Ragnor had always been more comfortably cutting to the heart of a matter. “Shinyun Jung will be there this year,” he commented instead. 

If Ragnor was surprised by the change in topic, he didn’t show it. “And?”

Magnus snorted. “What do you mean, _and?_ _And,_ she is a pain in the ass. You saw her the last few years, swooping in to close deals after someone else has done all the legwork. She’s a damn thief.” Magnus huffed with an undignified noise, a little flabbergasted by his friend’s indifference.

Ragnor shrugged. “This is not a competition, much you two seem keen to turn it into one every season.” He looked up at the ceiling, as if in despair. “The two of you can hardly be in the same room without things kicking off. Which is _incredibly_ fun for the rest of us, by the way,” he added, his tone dripping with sarcasm. 

“It’s not my fault she’s an unreasonable old witch,” Magnus protested.

“And you are a dramatic bitch,” Ragnor pointed out. “Could you possibly just - _relax,_ for a moment? Perhaps spend _one_ evening being civil to her, this time around, before you both start in with the passive aggression. That’s all I ask.”  
Magnus opened his mouth to retort - but snapped it shut, giving a grudging nod even as he cursed Ragnor for being right. As usual. 

Magnus sighed. “It’s not as though it will make a difference either way,” he grumbled. “There’s every chance she’ll outclass us this time, underhanded tactics or not.” He ran his hand through his hair, uncaring of the disarray in his frustration. “I’m getting some of the best design ideas I’ve ever had, but no one is capable of putting it down. No one seems to... to _get_ it.”

“Of course not,” Ragnor said evenly. “They’d have to be inside your head to truly get the full picture. And your salaries may be generous, Magnus, but no amount of money is going to let people see your thoughts.”

“I know, but this time, it’s different. It’s like they’re not even _close,”_ he whined, his frustration hitting him at full force. “If I don’t find a solution, and fast, we may well have to bow out this year.”

Ragnor’s eyes widened a little, apparently in realization. “That’s why you’ve been holding those late-night workshops for your designers, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Totally voluntary, of course,” Magnus hurried to add. “And I’m paying the appropriate overtime.”

Ragnor shook his head. “You really are going to bankrupt us someday,” he said frankly. 

But Magnus just grinned. “What can I say, my dearest cabbage?” he said, shrugging. “You know I don’t do things by halves.”

~*~ 

“No.” Magnus tossed away a sketch.

“Wrong.” Another.

“It’s not even _close_ -”

“Wrong color.”

“Wrong pattern.”

“This sleeve’s shape is totally wrong.”

“I said _capelet_ coat, not _cape_ coat-” 

He groaned. “Fuck, do you even know where to put buttons?” he demanded, a little sharply, tossing away the last design and feeling his patience wear thin. 

The atmosphere inside the room became somber, and Magnus sighed. “You know what?” he said tiredly, pasting on an attempt at a smile, trying not to let his frustration boil over into unfair anger. “Coffee break. Come back in fifteen - if you still want to be here, that is - and we’ll give it one last try.”

People started to disperse, some simply taking their bags and leaving the room, others heading purposefully towards the promise of caffeine, murmuring amongst themselves even as they visibly squared their shoulders, no doubt preparing for another round of Magnus’ disappointment. 

Magnus was massaging his temples, wondering if it would be better to just give up for the day, when his phone went off. He frowned as he lifted it to his ear, a quick glance confirming it was Max’s daycare calling. “Hello?”

 _“Mr. Bane?”_ came the slightly breathy voice at the other end of the line. _“It’s Helen. I apologize for the short notice, but I’m afraid I’ve received news about a family emergency and have to leave early. You’re entitled to your last hour of care, of course, if you’re happy for me to leave Max with a colleague. Otherwise, I can wait a few minutes for you to come and pick him up.”_

Magnus let out a slow, deep breath, trying to stop his mind spinning. Of all the days…

He cut off his self-serving tirade, shaking his head and keeping his voice even as he gave Helen his answer. “All right. I’ll ask his sitter to pick him up, she should be there in ten minutes or so.”

 _“Thank you, Mr. Bane. I’m sorry for the inconvenience,”_ Helen said, her tone more flustered than Magnus was used to hearing from her. 

“Don’t worry, dear,” Magnus said patiently, ignoring the steadily growing knot of frustration and anxiety in his gut. It wasn’t her fault, after all. “I hope everything’s okay. We’ll collect Max as soon as possible.”

He hung up, his arm dropping heavy down by his side, his eyes aching and gritty when he closed them, taking a deep breath to steady himself. God, he hadn’t been kidding when he was talking to Ragnor, apparently. He really needed a vacation. But until then…

“Biscuit,” he called, turning towards the curled figure at the back of the room. “Could I borrow you for a moment?”

Clary promptly looked up, the smear of yellow paint on her nose clashing brightly with the red curls, which fell around her face where they’d worked free from her bun.

“Something wrong?” she asked, getting to her feet and crossing the room to join Magnus.

Magnus shot her a half-smile. “Would you go pick Max up?” he asked wearily. “I can’t leave right now, but Helen needs to go - personal emergency. I’ll ask Elias to drive you there and back.” 

“Oh... Sure,” Clary said, clearly a little surprised, but nodding. “I’m guessing you’ll still be busy here when we get back, so we head straight to the playroom?” 

“I don’t see that we have much of a choice,” Magnus said wearily, rubbing his left temple again, his other hand fiddling with the embroidery at his hip. “I can’t have Max in here, obviously, but I could do with _you_ sticking around. Your sketches are... Well, I won’t lie to you, they’re not exactly what I’m imagining, but you’ve still been coming the closest so far.” 

“I could turn on the intercom,” she suggested, reaching up to reassemble her bun. “Maybe I could listen to you over that, try and draw from your descriptions?”

Magnus shook his head. “No, I don’t think that will work,” he said ruefully. “You won’t be able to see the projections, the basic shapes and swatches I had Julian’s team sketch out earlier. And you won’t get any real-time feedback if you’re not in the room.”

Clary hummed, her mouth twitching in acknowledgment and displeasure - and then suddenly she was smiling, that glinting, excited smile she got whenever she had an idea. 

“What if I got someone else to watch Max?” she asked. “My boyfriend’s brother is local, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind coming in for a little while to help out.” 

Magnus frowned a little. It was a simple solution, of course, but leaving Max with a stranger? In his own building, but still... “Is he reliable?” he asked. “Good with kids?”

Clary was already nodding, excitement lighting up her eyes. “Definitely,” she said sincerely. “I trust him just as much as I trust Jace, and honestly, he’s way more responsible. And he’s the _best_ with kids. Jace is always saying how he could totally count on him when they were growing up, and you should see him with their little brother-”

Magnus arched an eyebrow in amusement, and Clary stopped her babysitter sales pitch, giving a sheepish smile. 

“All right,” he said, a small smile crossing his face. “Anyone who’s engendered your good opinion to that extent is worth a shot. Call him. If he agrees, I’ll gladly pay him for his time, of course.” 

Clary nodded, heading out with her backpack over her shoulder, already pulling out her phone. 

Magnus turned back to his projector, only half-focused on his task as he rearranged the sketches. _Clary better be right about you, Jace’s brother,_ he thought, pushing aside his worry with some difficulty. After all, it wasn’t just _anyone_ Magnus would trust with his most valuable treasure. 

~*~

Magnus remembered how much effort writing always seemed to take when he was at school. He could have a whole story, a whole essay in his head - but then, when it came to actually putting it down on paper, the words wouldn’t come, or they wouldn’t feel _right,_ like they’d lost their meaning when they crossed whatever barrier stood between his mind and his pen. 

But while that had quickly put him off of writing, drawing was a different matter. He could picture the clothes he wanted to create perfectly in his mind’s eye, and quickly learned to reproduce that on paper, swift and accurate and _right._

These days, drawing felt more like writing. That invisible barrier, that thick, straining filter between ideas and reality was back, putting up a fight every time he had to convey his ideas to a middleman before they could become tangible. 

He could repeat himself as many times as he wanted. Nobody got it. Nobody understood his ideas, not really, not down to the _feelings_ he was trying to convey. Inevitably, it would descend into a senseless back-and-forth, neither Magnus nor the artist clear on what the end goal was. 

The latest design - one which he got inspired to create a couple of nights ago, and that his overtime workers were doing their best to translate now - was missing... _something._ He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it was glaring in its absence, throwing the whole design out of balance. His designers were trying to help, to suggest things, adding their own ideas and visions - but that only led them further astray, further from the original concept they were trying to capture from Magnus’ mind, and Magnus was on the edge of screaming in frustration.

He was feeling ever more sure that they would have to drop out of the Paris shows, and just deal with the press’ curiosity - not to mention whatever mockery Shinyun would throw at him after the event. But surely it was better to be quietly embarrassed, to bow out gracefully, rather than put up a collection that could be publicly scorned for its inferiority? 

While the designers added the final touches to their latest round of sketches, Magnus checked his cellphone, opening the app that showed him the camera feed of the playroom. There was a larger one on the eighth floor, of course, which was open to use by any employee or client who needed a safe place for their little ones to play, usually if external childcare was unavailable for some reason. But when it was empty, as it was now, Max would instead be in the smaller, private playroom next to Magnus’ personal atelier, not too far from the room Magnus and the designers were in for this overtime session. And perhaps it should have been distracting, having his son so near when he hadn’t seen him in hours, but Magnus found it comforting, too.

Through the camera, he could see Max happily drawing something, sitting at the low table in the center of the room. He was wearing his favorite cow onesie, and his dark hair was messier than it had been that morning when he was dropped at kindergarten. The couch nearby was strewn with crayons, as well as a few stray sheets of stickers. 

Magnus smiled softly.

His eyes wandered to the other figure in the room. The camera angle didn’t give him the best view, but he could see that the eldest Lightwood has hunched over, sitting on a chair much too small for him, watching Max draw and occasionally running his hand through a shaggy mop of ink-dark hair that was - somehow - even messier than his charge’s. 

Messy hair was one thing, but Magnus felt like clutching his pearls when the camera refocused, and he got a better glimpse of Lightwood’s outfit. If it could even be called that - his jeans were perfectly normal, but on his top half he wore a ratty old sweater, some vile combination of faded green and gray that Magnus was fairly certain he saw holes in. Honestly, Magnus was a little surprised he’d been able to enter the building, steeped in designer energies as it must have been by this point. He half-expected the sweater to burst into flames now that it was within the premises, like a demon or spirit that strayed onto holy land. 

The abominable sweater, however, was not the only thing that became clear when the camera refocused. Lightwood wasn’t just watching Max draw - he was drawing too, bent over the table and making thoughtful, repetitive strokes with whichever implement he’d gotten hold of, his paper hidden from this angle. 

Magnus felt himself ease a little at the sight. Apparently, Clary hadn’t been exaggerating. Nice of the guy to draw with Max, rather than just let him get on with it and play on his phone, or whatever. 

Satisfied, for now, that his son was safe and being well-taken care of, Magnus locked his phone and turned back to the designers. 

~*~

The last hour went by without much improvement, and after handing in their final sketches, the remaining designers were starting to call it a day. 

Magnus looked down at the paper Clary had just handed him, and smiled, though he could feel it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s beautiful, Biscuit,” he said honestly. 

Clary gave a slightly sad smile of her own. “But it’s not what you were looking for,” she surmised.

Magnus nodded - there was no point denying it. Between her lengthy tenure as Max’s babysitter, and now her not-inconsiderable stint as one of his designers, Clary knew him pretty well by now. Which meant, no doubt, that she could see the hope flickering out of Magnus’ bearing, even as he offered up what praise he had for her. “Still, your work has improved tonight,” he said. “We’re not there yet, but we’re closer. That’s something, at least.” 

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “I’ll go tell Alec that he can go now. I’ll stay with Max until you’re done here.”

“All right. Here,” Magnus reached for his wallet, pulling it from his back pocket and taking out two hundred-dollar bills. “Payment for his time.”

Clary blinked slowly, taking the money with obvious surprise. “I mean, I know firsthand that you pay generously,” she said. “But I highly doubt he’ll be expecting this much.”

Magnus winked. “Never trust a stingy businessman, dear.”

“Fair enough,” Clary said with a smile, her expression turning thoughtful for a moment. “You know, I think you would like him,” she added, nonchalantly. “You could come and say hi before he leaves?”

Magnus gave her a look - Clary was many things, but not subtle. “Maybe another time,” he said - albeit after considering her offer, at least for a moment. “I really need to be here whilst your colleagues finish up.”

“Okay,” she said, shrugging, smiling at him once more before leaving the room.

Part of Magnus was tempted to follow her, the lure of seeing his son and meeting this apparently-fascinating babysitter undeniable; but he pushed it aside, for now. He had a business to run. He didn’t have the luxury of getting distracted.

~*~

“All right,” Magnus said, glancing around the room. “Are you ready to pack up and go?”

“No, need pee-pee,” Max said. 

Magnus rolled his eyes fondly. “Okay, _I’ll_ pack up. Go on, Blueberry.” 

Smiling, Max ran to the small restroom attached to the playroom, while Magnus picked up his son’s belongings and put them back inside his Batman backpack, trying not to feel too despondent. The workshop - while outwardly productive, a lot of designing happening in a short space of time - had ultimately proved to be a failure again, no one quite able to capture what Magnus had envisioned. But everyone had gone home now - Clary and Lightwood included - and Magnus was looking forward to doing the same. 

He packed Max’s crayons neatly back into their box, sliding in the notebook he’d been using before noticing the other one on the couch, half-hidden by a toppled cushion. It was Max’s spare one, only carried because of how upset he’d been the first time he’d run out of space without a backup to keep drawing in - but it was open. 

Curious, Magnus pulled it out from beneath the cushion. This must have been what Lightwood was drawing in when he…

Magnus’ jaw dropped, taking in the picture before him - because he _knew_ that picture. 

He’d seen it inside his own head. 

He willed his hands to stay steady, taking in each detail of the set that had eluded his designers all evening. Granted, Magnus had envisioned teal, or perhaps even violet to soften the way the fabric sat over the hips - but this cardinal red was striking in a way those weren’t, and perfect for making the more angular elements pop. The layers draped exactly how they were meant to, the lace-up belt trailed softly down to mid-calf; but the _pièce de résistance_ was undeniably the decorative holster on the left thigh, its twin pouches dark and beautifully conspicuous against the red. It was the exact kind of contrasting detail the set had needed, the final piece of the puzzle. 

Few people had ever managed to leave Magnus Bane speechless, but _this…_ this was perfect. 

Which led him back to the question that his brain had been grappling with since he realized what this was - _how?_ How had this Lightwood known-

His eyes caught on the intercom, and he realized. Max liked to have the intercom on while he was here, found it comforting to hear Magnus’ voice and know that he was around, even though he was caught up working late. Lightwood must have heard Magnus describing the design to his employees, and taken it upon himself to have a go at it. 

Magnus stroked his thumb almost reverently over the drawing, his other hand grappling with his phone and hitting speed dial. 

_“Hello?”_

“Ragnor, I have a personal request,” he said, a smile creeping over his face. “I want you to find out everything you can about a man called Alec Lightwood.” 


	2. Orange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has Alec's POV, so we are going to see a bit of what happened during the first one from his side ~  
> There is some business talk too, so I'm sorry if it's too boring 😥  
> I hope you all like this monster of a chapter 🙈

“The server crashed again,” Simon announced, the giddy smile on his face explained as he added, “though, on the upside, that’s only because we’ve had such a good turnout for the Winter Event.” The next moment, however, his expression fell. “Also,” he said solemnly, “my beloved Yoda finally saw the light and gave up completely. It won’t turn on again.” 

The reply he got was a collective groan. Their computers were all old, probably too old for the kind of workload they had, but they were what they could afford right now. Despite their recent successes, they still didn’t have quite enough cash to buy newer ones, better equipped for the job.

Alec sighed. “I’ll call Lily to check on the server,” he said. He dropped his pen, saved his most recent work - on his external hard drive, just in case _his_ computer died on him too - and went to his office to make the call.

It was strange to think about the huge turn his life had taken from the trajectory of just a few years ago. While growing up, he could never have imagined that this would have been his future. Well, he didn’t need to, after all his parents had figured out everything for him by the time he was a toddler. They’d had so many plans - where Alec would study, _what_ he would study, the extra classes he would take, all the extracurricular activities, his final degree, and the workplace it would lead to. Honestly, it wouldn’t have been a surprise to Alec if they’d already made plans with another family for an arranged marriage, too.

He had enough perspective to realize that in many ways, his background had given him a fair hunk of privilege. The Lightwoods were ridiculously wealthy. Alec had grown up safe in the knowledge that if he wanted something, he could have it.

And yet, also in many ways, he’d always felt... empty, somehow. Some days, when his parents’ ‘grand plan’ felt particularly oppressive on his shoulders, the only thing that kept him going was his devotion to his three siblings. Jace, Isabelle and Max were his everything- most likely because, due to the constant absence of their parents while they were growing up, Alec was almost always the one taking care of them. He’d first learned how to cook so they wouldn’t have to live off takeout; he spent sleepless nights keeping watch when they were sick; almost every night, he would come up with different bedtime stories, trying to help them fall asleep; he always helped with their homework before finishing his own; and, when they had no one else to turn to, he was always the one to listen to their hopes and dreams and fears.

And it worked, mostly. Alec managed the pressure, his parents got their careers, his siblings got the care they needed. Everything was okay.

Until it wasn’t. Because despite all their plans, there was a factor Maryse and Robert Lightwood could never have accounted for - one which their bigoted mindset would never accept.

Alec was gay.

He had tried to hide it the best he could, had managed it for nearly two decades, but all secrets were doomed to be found out someday. Alec was nineteen and had barely started his major in architecture when his parents confronted him, giving him an ultimatum: conversion camp, or disownment. Tired, and feeling bold for the first time in his life, he chose the latter. That was how he found himself homeless, kicked out with nothing to his name, spending the night in some corner of the subway. But thankfully, the next day, his friends came to his rescue.

Maia and Lily, both of whom he’d met during college, took him to their shared apartment, and Alec began his new life: sleeping on a small couch, without any prospects for the future, but with the support of his siblings and friends.

Since he’d had to drop out of college, his parents no longer footing the bill, Alec started spending most of his time working various different jobs to earn some money. He worked in retail, cafés, bars, convenience stores - anywhere that would take him, filling as many hours as he could. Slowly but surely, he saved enough to rent his own place.

It was only when his two oldest siblings came of age that his life took another unexpected turn. Jace and Izzy had always been rebellious by nature, and after what their parents had done to Alec, they’d been waiting for the right opportunity to move out and cut all ties with Maryse and Robert, relenting only enough to make a deal that they’d still be able to see Max. Thanks to the small fortune they’d made by selling the expensive possessions they owned - years of extravagant birthday and Christmas gifts from parents who probably thought that a justified substitute for their time and attention - they moved in with Alec, and together the three of them started their own company.

And that was how they’d found themselves here, joint founders and owners of a video game development company called _The Runes._ After admin and rental expenses, they couldn’t afford much in the way of equipment, so they bought secondhand computers and graphic tablets and made do. They couldn’t hire anyone either, of course, but fortunately the three of them were good enough, and willing enough to put in the hard work, to handle everything themselves in the beginning. Soon, though, Simon Lewis – Izzy’s boyfriend – joined the party; and later Lily started helping them with technical problems, while Maia managed to get them an associate deal with the bar she worked at.

They started with queer Dating Simulation Games that drew a lot of attention across the globe, their most lucrative market being East Asia. They created a variety of characters with different genders and orientations - including, somewhat unusual for a dating sim, options for aromantic and/or asexual player characters, able to follow relationship paths in-game or simply play the platonic storylines.

Nowadays, their biggest project was a fantasy-themed MMORPG; also heavily focused on queer inclusion and representation, combined with different fantasy plotlines and some good old-fashioned demon-killing quests. The four of them - sometimes with the help of Clary, Lily and Maia - created the plots together, as well as the characters’ descriptions. Simon then programmed the games, Izzy drew the bodies, weapons and equipment, Jace was responsible for fine-tuning the CGI, and Alec drew the customizable elements that generated a fair portion of their revenue - the clothes and accessories and even _pets_ people would buy for their characters.

Alec loved to draw, but couldn’t make a living doing that alone, even within the company; as well as one of the artists, he was the one who managed most of the financial and legal parts of _The Runes_ , often working overtime to try and find new investors for their projects. And while his siblings took Friday nights and weekends to relax and have some fun, Alec just… couldn’t. Not while there was so much to be done. Instead, he took side jobs, trying to earn more money for the company - enough to buy new computers someday, for example.

And he was fine. He had his siblings, he had his friends. Life was a lot less bleak than it had been in, well, _ever._

Honestly, wishing for anything else, anything different for himself, would just have been selfish.

~*~

When Alec’s phone went off a short while later, it would have been an understatement to say that he was surprised to see the caller ID.

“Uh, you know this isn’t Jace’s phone, right?”

“Of course I do,” Clary huffed, and Alec could practically _see_ her rolling her eyes at the other end of the line. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Alright. What is it, Fray? I’m kinda busy here.”

“Too busy for extra cash?” she asked innocently, though he could sense her smirking, and holy shit, he was probably spending too much time with his siblings’ significant others. He was already starting to understand all those Star Wars references Simon came out with, and that realization alone was enough to give Alec goosebumps.

Still, concerns about his social life aside, extra cash was extra cash. “I’m listening.”

“You know that boy I babysit sometimes? Max?” Clary paused, and Alec hummed in acknowledgment. “I need you to look after him for a couple of hours. I have to be at this important workshop, so I can’t watch him. But I’ll be just next door, so you don’t have to worry, I’ll be on hand if there’s any trouble. Plus, I’m sure Mr. Bane will compensate you generously for your time.”

“Isn’t he that guy who pays you twice what a sitter usually gets?” Alec asked, reclining in his chair, well and truly distracted from the shading he’d been so focused on before Clary called.

“Yep,” she said, popping the ‘p’ with an audible grin. “Plus, Max is a lovely kid. It’s easy money.”

Alec considered it for a second longer, and then put down his pencil, pushing away from his desk. “Alright, Fray. Where do I need to go?”

~*~

Alec spotted his destination the moment he emerged from the busy subway station - it was impossible to not see it, after all. The sign for _Magnificent Fashion_ was bright and bold, eye-catching on that otherwise-gray street of the business district.

He stepped inside, and immediately even the promise of an extra payday wasn’t quite enough to stifle his instant regret for coming. Perhaps it should have been obvious, but he honestly hadn’t stopped to consider that with this being a birthplace of high fashion, everyone would be _incredibly_ well-dressed. Even when he’d been on good terms with his parents and living in relative luxury, Alec had never cared much about fashion, always opting for comfort over visual impact. But now, standing here, he was viscerally aware that his comfortable old sweater had holes where at least three of his fingers could go through, and the color was so faded, it was almost impossible to tell what it had been originally.

Oh well, it was only for a couple of hours.

Despite looking at him warily, the receptionist allowed his entrance once he gave his name and showed some ID. Heading up to the seventeenth floor, he started to feel even more nervous. He wasn’t used to this kind of lifestyle anymore - his parents, important lawyers and then politicians, had always worked in buildings like this. It was almost as if, by being on the highest floor possible, they could become truly untouchable, unbothered by anything outside of their world.

Alec sighed, folding his arms tightly across his chest, and hoping even more fervently that the next few hours would pass quickly.

When he arrived at the right floor, to his relief, only Clary was waiting for him near the elevator. She was holding a toddler in a cute cow onesie, the sight of whom instantly coaxed a small smile onto Alec’s face.

“Hey, Lightwood,” she said with a grin, while the kid looked at him with big, curious eyes. They were a very vibrant blue, a few shades darker than Alec’s.

“Fray,” Alec acknowledged, though his attention was mostly on the boy in her arms, his voice and expression growing softer. “You must be Max. I’m Alec.”

“Your eyes. Same!” Max chirped, apparently delighted.

Alec chuckled. “Same,” he agreed, his smile growing wider as he followed them into a small but cheerful playroom. “I like your onesie. I’m guessing you like cows, huh?”

“Yes!” Max said, nodding eagerly. “They’re cute! They’re like, _moooooo.”_

“That’s a really good impression,” Alec complimented, grinning by that point. Clary was right, Max was definitely a sweet kid.

She set Max down and let him toddle off as she turned back to Alec.

“Okay, you should be all set here. If he gets hungry there are snacks in that cupboard, there are juice and water in the minifridge, the bathroom’s just through there… Like I said, I’ll be right next door if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll come straight back as soon as I’m finished up in there.”

“Don’t worry,” Alec reassured her, smiling a little at her nervous energy. “We’ll be okay here. Go on, Fray, get back to work.”

She nodded, hurrying out of the room without another word. 

Alec looked around the room once more, his eyebrow twitching in amusement as his gaze traveled over the playroom’s _minifridge._ It’d been a while since that kind of wealthy indulgence was normal to him. Long enough that sometimes he forgot how the other half lived.

That wasn’t the only strange fixture of the room, though - the other was the intercom, which was attached to the corner of an adult-sized desk towards the wall, and currently being half-hugged by the toddler, stretching up as tall as he could to reach it.

“It’s bapa!” Max explained, a big smile on his face. “It’s nice. It’s like he’s here. ‘m not scared!”

Alec felt his heart swell. Damn if this kid didn’t just get more adorable by the minute. He crouched beside Max, listening to the smooth voice with him for a moment. 

“Sounds to me like you guys get on really well, huh?”

Max nodded enthusiastically. “He is the best!”

“I bet,” Alec agreed. “Now, how about we do something fun while we wait for him?”

Max seemed to think for a moment, then nodded again. “Okay,” he said, letting go of the intercom and running to grab his Batman backpack. A moment later, he plonked himself down on a chair and looked up at Alec with an expectant expression.

Alec complied, sitting opposite him on a chair just big enough for him to perch on steadily, watching him with a warm gaze.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

“Draw, ‘corse!” Max announced. “Y’know, bapa is very sad. I want draw to make bapa smile,” Max started to pull things out from his backpack, putting down a couple of notebooks and several crayons and pencils, thoroughly ignoring the sweater and tupperware that fell to the floor. “You draw?”

“Yes,” Alec said, even as he reached over the tiny table, picking up the stray objects and placing them back in the now-discarded backpack. “I love to draw.”

“Good!” Max said, handing Alec the second notebook and pushing some of his pencils towards him. “You can draw something for bapa too. It’s okay if it’s not pwetty. Bapa will love too.” he decreed. 

Alec felt something familiar warm in his heart, the same sort of feeling that had been his solace for several years growing up. This was the best part of looking after a kid - for a while, you got to share in their innocence, their hopeful, uncomplicated view of the world.

Holey sweaters and high buildings aside, maybe this babysitting job wouldn’t be as bad as he’d thought.

~*~

A good while later, Alec was still fiddling with his pencil, thinking about what to draw. Maybe he could try to sketch some superhero, join in with what Max was doing. The kid clearly loved Batman and kept drawing little blue bats on his notebook. Maybe Alec could come up with a new superhero, with a cow-themed suit, kind of like Max’s onesie. After all, if there were a Batman and a Spiderman, why not a Cow…Boy?

...Oh.

No, too simple.

Alec was outlining a body - a waiting figure for him to just draw _anything_ on top of - when the voice over the intercom caught his attention once more, sweeping in timbre and pitch as Mr. Bane started to give instructions, describing some new set of clothes for Clary and her colleagues to put down on paper.

Alec had to admit that the guy had a nice voice. It was deep and authoritative, a little husky even over the speakers. But what was most palpable was the _passion -_ this was someone who knew his craft, who clearly _felt_ the impact of each color and shape and intricacy he described. For a moment, Alec closed his eyes and listened as if it was the sweet melody of a lullaby.

Just listened.

And then he began to draw.

It was a similar experience to how Alec liked to work on his game design drawings - he would often put his headphones on and let the world fade away, the melodies and rhythms and feelings of his favorite drawing playlists shaping what he put down onto the page, how each design took shape.

This wasn’t a song, just a voice over an intercom, but it served the same purpose, the description painting vivid imagery in Alec’s mind as he shifted between pencils, trying to take it down. 

Even when there was a pause, an uncertainty from a missing piece, Alec found that he knew what to do. He’d truly ‘zoned in’ on this drawing, could see it taking shape with almost a familiarity. It was easier than he expected to find the missing pieces, the little details to polish up the design and make it pop. The details weren’t so much lost as obscured, slightly hidden; not invisible, but twinkling in his peripheral vision, ready to be captured with a deft, sure hand, as long as they weren’t focused on too hard

When he finally finished he looked down at the design, smiling at the sense of accomplishment and peace. This, here, was why he’d fallen in love with drawing as he had, why no amount of hardship or bad luck had been able to steal that joy away from him.

There was no greater freedom than creation, and he held the proof in his hands.

~*~

When Clary came back a few hours later, Max and Alec had both finished drawing, and were sat in front of the toy chest, walking plushie and plastic dinosaurs over the terrain of thick carpet in search of their Duplo dinner, occasionally hiding them under the stool with a loud _hush!,_ helping them cower away from the spy plane in Max’s left hand. 

Alec glanced up in time to catch Clary’s sappy grin, before she schooled her face into a more neutral smile. “Thanks, Alec,” she said. “I’m done for the day, now. I can stay here and watch him until Magnus wraps everything else up.”

Alec nodded and got up, gently ruffling Max’s hair.

“It was really nice meeting you, Max.”

“You leaving?” the toddler asked, dropping the aeroplane and t-rex, staggering up to his feet and wrapping his chubby arms around Alec’s legs. “Pwease, no. Stay.”

Alec gave him a rueful smile, pulling up the hood on his onesie and tugging on the cow ears until Max giggled. “I need to go home, but I promise to come visit you again, okay?”

Max clearly didn’t like that answer very much, but he apparently accepted it, letting go of Alec with a solemn nod.

“Be good for Clary and your bapa, hm?” Alec said, lifting Max up and pressing a light kiss to his forehead.

“‘kay.” Max brought his hand up to his face, kissing it with a loud _mwah_ before smacking it against Alec’s cheek. “Kissy!”

Alec gave a slightly-surprised chuckle, booping Max’s nose before handing him over to Clary.

“Alright, child-whisperer, stop showing off,” she grumbled, though there was a smile on her own face. “Now, before I forget…” She fished around in her back pocket, pulling out a small fold of green. “Mr. Bane asked me to give you these.”

Alec’s eyes widened as he unfolded the money, revealing two hundred-dollar bills. He knew Clary’s boss was generous, but damn, two hundred bucks for barely _two hours_ of babysitting? Something settled inside him. Talk about a well-timed windfall - he could finally cover that electricity bill, the one that was already overdue and had been worrying at the back of his mind for a good few days now.

“Thanks for calling me, Clary,” he said, not bothering to hide the depth of his gratitude. He really owed her one for this.

She just shrugged. “No problem. Honestly, you were the best option I had. Jace might have managed to lock Max in one of the cupboards by mistake.”

“More like _managed to squish him into one of the photocopiers,”_ Alec agreed, unable to control a smirk as Clary nodded and laughed. He knew Clary loved Jace with all her heart, but she also knew the blonde too well to know what he was capable of.

~*~

Alec ended the call, giving a heavy sigh and trying to calm the panic rising in the back of his throat. So much for their supposed upturn as of late, he thought grimly.

“What happened?” Isabelle asked, and Alec looked up to see both her and Jace standing right in front of his desk with worried, expectant expressions. Alec shook his head despondently.

“Clave Enterprises have terminated their contract with us,” he said quietly. “They’ve taken the escape clause. They don’t want to sponsor our game anymore.”

Jace’s face fell, but Izzy looked enraged. “But why?” she demanded. “What about all that talk of _open-mindedness,_ _making real change for the LGBT+ community?”_

“Well, it would seem that Zara Dearborn, their new CEO, isn’t _quite_ so enthusiastic about that cause,” Alec said with a grimace, massaging his temples to soothe the oncoming headache he could feel brewing. “Apparently she’s from a pretty conservative family. And…” He hesitated for a moment, but what good would it do to hide this particular detail from his siblings? They would find out one way or another. “Her family has connections with Maryse and Robert,” he admitted. 

His siblings groaned.

“Of course they do,” Izzy muttered.

“Do you think they’re involved?” Jace asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you think they’re the ones who asked Dearborn to pull out?”

“Maybe,” Alec allowed. “We don’t have proof, but I wouldn’t put it past them.” Alec glanced down, worrying gently at his bottom lip with his teeth. “Especially if they found out that it wasn’t just you two involved in the project.”

“Hey, stop that,” Izzy chided, frowning at him. “I know that face. This is _not_ your fault. If they want to be bigoted assholes, that’s their deal.”

Alec gave her a chastising look, more out of habit than any drive to actually defend his parents. She had a point. 

“What are we going to do?” Jace asked, bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand, even as he grit his teeth and took deep, slow breaths, apparently trying to contain his anger. “They were our biggest investor. Can we even go ahead without their support?”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Alec confessed. “Though I wouldn’t hold out much hope.” He buried his face in his hands with a frustrated sigh, his fingers mussing up the front strands as he clenched his fists.

His descent into despair was interrupted, however, by his phone ringing.

He pulled it out of his pocket, frowning in confusion when he saw the declaration of _Unknown Number_ on the screen. Since leaving home, he’d been careful with his number, hoping that staying slightly off the grid would make it harder for something from his past to come back and bite him in the ass. 

He accepted the call, lifting the phone to his ear with a cautious, “Hello?”

_“Mr. Lightwood?”_

“Yes,” he said slowly, “May I ask who’s speaking?”

 _“My name is Sophie Highwater, and I’m calling from_ Magnificent Fashion - _specifically, from the office of Magnus Bane. He’d like to speak to you as soon as it is convenient. When would that be?”_

“Might I ask what this is regarding?” Alec asked, hoping that his telephone voice would mask the steadily growing knot of anxiety tightening at the base of his lungs. Did something happen to Max, something he hadn’t noticed? God, he hoped not. He couldn’t afford a lawsuit right now.

But Sophie’s voice stayed calm and friendly. _“Mr. Bane has a business proposition for you that he’d like to discuss in person. Would you be available this afternoon, perhaps?”_

_A business proposition?_

This conversation got more and more confusing the longer it went on.

“Uh,” Alec said, his cheeks heating with embarrassment. _Good going, Alec, very_ _articulate._ He glanced up at his siblings, wishing he could have taken this call alone. He’d never performed especially well under scrutiny, however well-meant. Still, he cleared his throat, and thankfully managed to find a decent reply. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m available today. Five o’clock? Would that be okay?”

 _“That works perfectly,”_ Sophie chirped. _“I’ll make a note in Mr. Bane’s schedule, he’ll be expecting you then. Thank you, Mr. Lightwood.”_

“No problem,” Alec answered a little dazedly, his confusion furrowing into deep creases on his brow. What kind of _business proposition_ would the CEO of a high-end fashion label have for their tiny little game company? They weren’t usually the first ones up to bat when it came to sponsorships, too much of their money needed for in-house reinvestment.

“Alec?” Jace asked, the moment he hung up. “Who _was_ that?”

“Is everything okay, _hermano_?” Izzy asked, looking a little worried.

Alec looked back up at them, his mouth working as he tried to find the words to explain. He didn’t want to get their hopes up... but however unusual it seemed, a sponsorship for their game was the only reason he could think of for Mr. Bane getting back in touch with him. 

He took a deep breath, and allowed a small smile to creep over his face. Caution was one thing, but he’d also learned not to look gift horses in the mouth. “I think,” he said quietly, “that we might still have a chance.”

~*~

Alec was a pile of nerves yet _again_ as the elevator returned him to the seventeenth floor of _Magnificent Fashion._ He had changed out of his previous sweater, opting for one with fewer holes - but it still was a weird faded shade of blue, when he was _f_ __air_ ly _ sure it was supposed to be purple, so it wasn’t doing a _great_ job of making him feel like he fit in. Still, combined with the leather jacket he was wearing over the top of it - at Izzy’s insistence - he was at least more presentable this time around. Though unfortunately he couldn’t say the same about his hair, which the strong breeze outside had mussed from ‘slightly ruffled mop’ to ‘hasn’t even _heard_ of a hairbrush’.

Catching sight of himself in the elevator’s shiny doors, he considered trying to fix it, but after a few seconds the phrase _lost cause_ came to mind. He grimaced, looking down at his shoes instead until the elevator _ding_ _ed_ , and trying to talk himself into believing it looked intentional.

He reached the small waiting area outside of an office labeled _Magnus Bane, CEO,_ and when he gave his name the secretary introduced themselves as Sophie, gesturing with a sunny smile to a plush-looking chair and inviting him to take a seat. Alec made a mental note to google this guy later, to see if he was well-known for unusual business moves or something, because Alec still couldn’t figure out what kind of proposition someone like this would have for _The Runes,_ or why they’d even be looking into indie game developers in the first place - certainly not like this. True, they sometimes received correspondence from large companies, usually an offer of sponsorship or investment, but those offers were almost always made by email or post, or _occasionally_ a sudden visit from a fancy-looking lawyer, who would unfailingly look severe and out-of-place in their tiny rented office.

None of them had ever actually been asked to go somewhere for an in-person meeting, let alone with the frickin’ _CEO._ Not for the first time, Alec found himself wishing that Sophie had been a little more specific than _business_ proposition over the phone. He’d never been a fan of surprises, and would have preferred to know exactly what he was walking into here.

His overthinking spiral was interrupted by a buzzing noise coming from Sophie’s desk, and Alec was cheerfully informed that he could _go right in._

He was finally going to meet Magnus Bane.

Alec gave a strained smile and stood, taking a deep breath. _Alright. Here we go._

~*~

“Mr. Lightwood, thank you for coming,” his host said with a smile, rising from his pristine-looking rolling chair and rounding the dark, imposing desk to approach Alec and offer a hand in greeting, his scarlet nail polish all the more striking for how it contrasted with the small black splint supporting his palm and knuckles. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced,” he continued. “My name is Magnus Bane, Max’s father and CEO of _Magnificent Fashion.”_

Totally dazed, and utterly speechless, Alec took the offered hand with a nod and did his best not to just _stare._

Despite his hurried efforts to make himself presentable, Alec was under no illusion that he looked the part for a fancy corporate meeting. What he _hadn’t_ expected was that the CEO himself didn’t either, though in a vastly different way. His navy jeans fit like a second skin, curving flawlessly around toned muscles. Alec got the feeling he wasn’t supposed to be looking so long at Mr. Bane’s kneecaps, but it seemed a damn sight safer than looking upwards, because the burgundy leather waistcoat - which was _unbuttoned,_ for fuck’s sake - left almost nothing to the imagination, revealing a smooth, tawny expanse of skin over his abdomen, which Alec tried to pretend his attention was only drawn to because of the long, layered silver necklace over the man’s chest. 

He had no such excuse for his eyes drifting to those incredible biceps, or how hard he had to swallow at the sight of them. 

Abruptly, Alec remembered that eye contact was probably the polite thing to do here, and he glanced upwards, clenching his jaw so it wouldn’t drop. Black kohl and silver eyeshadow highlighted Mr. Bane’s almost otherworldly golden-green eyes, and glitter sparkled subtly on his high cheekbones. His black hair was fairly short and styled into perfect spikes, accented by the occasional red streak or smattering of silver-gray, which matched the salt-and-pepper of his short beard and gave him an air of dignity. 

Nothing, absolutely nothing in the world could have prepared Alec for that.

Magnus Bane was so unfairly gorgeous, that Alec forgot his own name for a moment.

Fuck, was that man even real?

“Uh, I'm-” _-single,_ his traitorous mind supplied, but thankfully he managed to stop himself from saying it out loud. Good thing, too, else he might have had to throw himself out of the large, picturesque window behind Mr. Bane’s desk, in order to avoid a far more painful death by sheer embarrassment. “Lightwood,” he said firmly, “Alec. I mean, Alexander Gideon Lightwood.” He snapped his runaway mouth shut again - _the guy doesn’t care about your damn_ middle name, _Alec -_ but thankfully, the older man just nodded, almost seeming… amused.

Mr. Bane’s eyes flicked down and back up, his mouth twitching into a smirk, and _holy shit,_ was he _checking him out?_

Alec swallowed again, pushing the notion aside. Less than a minute into the meeting, and he was already losing his damn mind.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Mr. Bane said evenly, returning to his chair and gesturing for Alec to take the one on the other side of the desk.

And God, Alec had to focus hard to stop himself from tripping over those few steps.

“Now, Mr. Lightwood,” Mr. Bane started, “I called you here to make you an offer.”

“Uh... yes, I figured that would be the case,” Alec said, trying to even his breathing and focus on business. “I’m assuming this offer would be regarding our newest game?”

“It depends,” Mr. Bane said with a shrug, crossing his legs in an elegant move and fixing Alec with a piercing gaze. “I propose a short test. And if you pass, I’m prepared to invest heavily in your company’s latest project.”

Alec frowned slightly, the distracted, fuzzy feelings of before quickly fading. “What sort of a test?” he asked, trying not to let his suspicion overpower his polite tone, even as an alarm bell started ringing faintly in the back of his mind. 

In lieu of an answer, Mr. Bane opened a drawer of his desk, pulling out a piece of paper and placing it in front of Alec.

It was the drawing he’d done while babysitting Max.

Alec’s frown deepened a little. Was he going to be chastised for wasting one of the kid’s pieces of paper, or something?

But before Alec could even open his mouth to ask, Mr. Bane explained what he meant.

“This is the _exact_ concept I was trying to get my designers to see, the results I’d hoped to lead them to. They didn’t manage it. But you drew this without even being in the _room.”_

Alec tilted his head, uncomprehending. He hadn’t needed to be in the room, he’d been able to hear Mr. Bane’s description perfectly well through the intercom. Sure, it had felt a little odd, drawing this as an outsider whilst the official designers were—

An outsider. 

_Oh._

His eyes widened and he stood abruptly, gesticulating with suddenly shaky hands as he desperately tried to explain himself.

“I-I’m sorry. I swear I wasn’t trying to steal your idea or anything. I just didn’t know what to draw for Max and just… Your voice was there and, and I got distracted, and started to draw and… I swear. I… I…” He ran his hands through his hair, feeling the panic mount in his gut. “But I wasn’t... I wasn’t claiming it as my _own,_ or anything, I would never _use-”_

“Mr. Lightwood. Alexander,” Mr. Bane said, raising a hand to stave off Alec’s ramblings, his expression as kind and careful as if Alec was a spooked animal he was trying to soothe. “It’s all right. I know you weren’t trying to steal anything. If you had been, you would have taken the drawing with you, or at least taken a picture before you left, which CCTV would have seen, so I’m not worried about that.”

Alec’s breathing was still a little unsteady, but he nodded, sitting back down.

“My point is,” Mr. Bane continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted by Alec’s freak-out, “that you did the impossible, Mr. Lightwood. I had eight of my best designers in that room, including your friend Clarissa, and not one of them was capable of reaching this level of detailed perfection. Most of them couldn’t even get the basic _idea_ of what I wanted - whilst you not only managed that, but added an accessory that turned out to be _exactly_ what the set needed, the missing piece I couldn’t put my finger on.” Mr. Bane smirked. “Needless to say, I was impressed.” 

Alec gaped, not quite able to believe the turn in conversation.

“I just followed your instructions,” he said hesitantly. “It was easy, the way you described it. I don’t know how anyone could hear what you were saying and... and _not_ come to” he gestured down at the drawing “this.”

“And yet, for months now, my designs have remained lost in translation,” Mr. Bane said with a sigh, “and I haven’t yet managed to discern why. Ever since my _accident,”_ he continued breezily, waving his splinted hands carelessly, “I’ve had to entrust my designers with all illustration, from initial concept to final pattern. Which was fine, when we were building from well-established lines. My supervision was enough.” He leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing. “But more recently, I’ve been attempting to introduce new concepts, so that we have something novel to present on the runway. And however skilled my designers are - and bear in mind, I only hire the best - they haven’t quite managed to grasp my ideas this time around. Not even one.”

“And then I did,” Alec said quietly. 

Mr. Bane smiled. “Indeed. And I am hoping beyond hope that it was more than a coincidence.” He opened another drawer, producing a brand new piece of paper and a box full of high-quality pencils.

“So, Mr. Lightwood,” he said, “I propose this test. I will describe another outfit, another concept I’ve been trying fruitlessly to coax from my designers’ hands. And if you succeed, I’m sure we could come to an arrangement that would result in your company receiving some significant funding.” He raised his eyebrows in a clear, almost playful challenge. “Interested?”

Alec eyed the paper a little warily, weighing his options. It seemed too good to be true, like there was some huge catch he wasn’t aware of yet. But at the same time, it was only a silly drawing test. He wasn’t signing any contracts, exchanging any money or assets. And if this was legit, if this could really be his chance at making a deal that could save _The Runes,_ then what harm could there be in at least humoring Magnus Bane for a while? 

“Okay,” he said, pulling the paper towards him and emptying the pencils from the box, lining them up by hue and saturation as he normally did. “What do you want me to draw?”

Mr. Bane hummed thoughtfully. “There is one dress I’ve been thinking about recently,” he said, a little absently. “It’s not actually for the collection, though it’s in a similar style. A dear friend has a birthday soon, and I wanted to make her something special…”

He started to describe the outfit he was envisioning, and Alec began to draw. 

~*~ 

Time passed, Mr. Bane’s voice and the gentle scratching of Alec’s pencil over the paper the only sounds in the quiet office. If it weren’t for the distant thrum of traffic outside, Alec might have believed they were completely ensconced within their own little world. 

Around halfway through, Sophie came and went, leaving a tray of coffee, water, and snacks for the two of them. It was only upon seeing the food that Alec realized that he’d skipped lunch - several hours ago, the sunlight outside now turning golden as it dipped towards the horizon - and he dug in gratefully, eating with his left hand and steadying the paper with his elbow instead. 

Finally - Alec wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it had likely been at least an hour - the design was pretty much finished. Where once there had been blank paper there was now a sketch of a beautiful mermaid dress, the sleeveless lace bodice adorned with ultramarine sequins and the folds of the Egyptian blue skirt draping straight but loose, suggesting a light velvet texture. He lightly emphasized the edges, detailing the layers waves of the skirt; it gave a gentle, fluid effect, as if the dress carried the ocean itself.

Mr. Bane hummed. “One last detail... a statement necklace, perhaps? Or would you suggest a more dainty pendant?”

“Neither,” said Alec, his heart skipping a beat as he recognized the question as a trick. “Any necklace would compete unnecessarily with the sequins, drawing the eye away from the focal point of the cascading hem.” He reached out and took the lightest gray pencil he could find, sketching until a shape barely appeared around the faceless figure’s throat. “Here,” he said, pleased. “A white silk scarf, cool-toned to complement the blue, and providing enough contrast from the dress to make room for some sort of headpiece, if desired, without the overall effect getting muddied.” 

“Like the seafoam crashing white on the shore,” Mr. Bane said quietly, and Alec risked a glance upwards, relieved when the older man’s mouth twitched up into a smile. “Perfect.”

Alec returned the smile, trying to ignore the sudden fluttering of his stomach. He didn’t know if it was the way Mr. Bane looked at him - seriously, it was like he’d discovered a unicorn or something, not a down-on-his-luck game designer - or simply the compliments, which every friend Alec had ever known had told him he was terrible at accepting. Either way, Alec was torn between the irrational urge to _run,_ and the even worse notion of... of... 

“So,” he said, wincing at how loud he sounded as he tried to interrupt his spiralling, completely-inappropriate-for-a-work-environment thoughts. “What would be the terms of this deal?” 

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Bane said, moving from where he’d been looking over Alec’s shoulder - thank god - and sitting back behind his desk, pulling out a Manila folder from the bottom of a shallow tray of papers and pushing it towards Alec. “Well, after your impressive display this afternoon, I think it’s safe to say your abilities are more than a fluke. You’ve got the skill, and more importantly, you and I seem to be on the same wavelength.” He paused, flashing a bright smile. “I’d like to hire you, Mr. Lightwood. A fixed-term contract as my Chief Designer in the run-up to Paris Fashion Week, which is four months away. As payment, I’ll happily invest in your gaming company, with the funds to be used however your organization sees fit.”

Alec frowned. “It’s a tempting offer,” he said carefully, “but obviously, I already have a full-time job." _And several side ones too_ , Alec thought, trying to not wince.

“Of course,” Mr. Bane said smoothly, “I respect that your first commitment must be to your own company.” He reached over, opening the file to the first page, and gestured to the first table of figures. “But as detailed here, I’d be offering you a highly flexible contract - it could be as little as eight hours a week to secure the base level of investment. And, as you can see, any time you could offer me beyond that would scale up the investment, potentially to the maximum figure. Even weekends are totally acceptable if you are willing to.” 

Alec glanced down at the table of figures he was being directed to, and was frankly surprised that his eyes didn’t fall out of his head.

“This is a lot of money,” he said, unnecessarily. “I appreciate the… _faith_ you must have in this arrangement, especially given how small my company is.”

Mr. Bane chuckled. “Ragnor - my top lawyer - said the same thing.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “If a little less… _politely_ than you did,” he smirked. “But, luckily for me and you, I‘ve learned when _not_ to listen to him.” He paused, exhaling deeply, his demeanor remaining friendly but taking on a seriousness, too. “Essentially, Mr. Lightwood, this event is very important to me, and I’m willing to invest accordingly. If we do well in Paris, the contracts I can make there will more than cover this initial investment.” 

Alec nodded, continuing to flip through the contract - and having to stop again when he reached the final clause, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline. “Am I reading this correctly?”

Mr. Bane visibly stifled his obvious amusement at Alec’s reaction. “Unfortunately for Ragnor, yes you are. I have a certain… rivalry with Ms. Jung. Petty, I know, but it keeps us both on our toes. So yes, if my collection outdoes hers at the event, I’ll happily reimburse you further for your help in making that happen.” 

Alec swallowed. That _reimbursement_ was another three times the ‘maximum’ from the initial deal. 

If he helped Magnus win this round of the competition he was apparently embroiled in, _The Runes_ could invest _extensively_ in new equipment, future-proofing their tech for _years_ . Hell, maybe they would even be able to actually _buy_ a building, and sing goodbye to the rent spikes that had almost bankrupted them in the past. _Holy shit,_ he thought. This amount of money would be life-changing for all of them.

And suddenly, all his thoughts of remaining cautious, of refusing to harbor hope... They were gone. 

Taking the nearest pen, Alec signed his name without thinking twice – because if he did, he would just overthink, and that was never good. Besides, it’s not like their company had a lawyer on retainer, so he was used to making these judgment calls. He would just have to trust his own impression, and have faith that this impossibly generous, distractingly gorgeous man wouldn’t try to make a fool of him.

Alec looked back up at the other man, returning the smile he was met with. “You have yourself a deal, Mr. Bane,” he said, pushing the signed contract back over the desk. 

Mr. Bane waved a hand, slipping the contract back into the paper tray. “Magnus, please,” he said, rising from his chair and gesturing for Alec to follow. “With how closely we’ll be working, it seems appropriate, wouldn’t you agree?” 

“I suppose so,” Alec said, following Mr. Ba- No, _Magnus_ , over to the drinks cart in the corner, and accepting the fancy glass of whatever he had poured for them. 

“Excellent.” Magnus’ smile softened, his golden-green eyes seemingly alight in obvious joy. “Well then, Alexander. To a successful partnership.”

Alec raised his own glass, before taking a sip - and immediately grimacing at the bitter, acrid taste. He’d never been a particular fan of alcohol; and by the way Magnus was failing to hide yet another smirk, apparently he wasn’t remotely subtle about it. Maybe Alec ought to have felt offended, but he couldn’t muster up anything except a grudging, embarrassed amusement of his own.

Which wouldn’t have been a problem, if it didn’t stem from the fact that Alec was already... hell, _interested_ was a lie, he’d jumped straight over that and _curious_ and landed right on _smitten._ Which was, of course, a _perfect_ thing to feel regarding someone he was about to be _working closely_ with, someone who’d essentially be his _boss_ for the next four months. 

Alec gripped his glass a little harder, forcing down the rest of the drink. _Well, fuck._


	3. Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay, it was a bad week ;_;
> 
> Thank you again Louise, for being an absolute angel and beta-ing this so fast <3

Alec wasn’t what Magnus had expected.

When Ragnor had first shown him the dossier on Alec’s life, Magnus had started to construct an idea of the man in his head - arrogant, conceited, used to the world bending to his will. He _was_ a Lightwood after all, and the reputation of that family spoke for itself. There were few people in this world that Magnus actively avoided, having never been afraid of conflict or competition, but Maryse and Robert Lightwood had managed to land themselves on that list. For years, Magnus had refused business from companies that hired the Lightwoods for their legal expertise; and when the two of them had started to make a name for themselves politically, too, he’d carefully kept his life outside their jurisdiction. After all, Magnus had seen the way their rivals - some of which were once their friends - had quietly fallen into ruin over the nineties and noughties. He was a risk-taker, sure, but that didn’t mean he was financially suicidal. 

So, yes, Magnus had been immediately suspicious of their firstborn. Granted, he’d been wonderful with Max, but there was a world of difference between being a good babysitter and being a trustworthy business associate. The silver spoon he’d no doubt grown up suckling may not influence the former, but could prove a disastrous influence on the latter. 

However, the holes on Alec’s basic background had caught Magnus’ attention and made him curious enough to ask for a follow-up - one which would require the use of a more… _private_ source on Ragnor’s part. 

And when those blanks were filled in, Magnus’ concept of Alec Lightwood changed dramatically. Apparently, his branch of the Lightwood family tree had been ripped off around four years ago, and since then, he’d lived his life hidden from the public eye. He had no phone number or address registered publicly, not even regarding the gaming company he’d built with his siblings. And whilst his siblings’ names were on the legal documents, even they used pseudonyms in the credits of their products, further removing the Lightwood name from the company’s reputation. 

It was… curious.

Which made Magnus even more certain that he had to meet this intriguing young man.

He was able to get a hold of Alec’s number - everyone who’d been in business for more than a year or two had a few _connections,_ after all; and whilst Magnus found it distasteful, he reasoned that he only ever used his for good, and he promptly asked Sophie to invite Mr. Lightwood in for a face-to-face meeting. 

Magnus didn’t care about Alec’s reasons for staying off the grid - that was his business, much as Magnus was curious - and he was also unwilling to base his judgment of a potential associate on cold, hard information from one of Ragnor’s dossiers. He valued character, proof of it through action, and talent - and Alec Lightwood, for all he remained shrouded in mystery, had proved himself in each of those four days ago, in the span of a single evening.

If he hadn’t a good character, Clary wouldn’t have trusted him to take care of Max, and would never have recommended him to Magnus.

Then, once Mr. Lightwood was on the job, he’d been committed to it. Magnus had, unfortunately, witnessed more than one babysitter before Clary simply turn Max loose on a playroom, barely interacting with their charge at all while they waited for the end of their shift and the resulting paycheck. It annoyed Magnus to no end. Children were _people,_ after all, and any sitter worth their salt would treat Max as such. Alec had done that, had drawn with Max and played with him and _talked_ to him. It was a low bar, perhaps, but it was one which Magnus had seen sitters dig their way under before, and one which he was relieved to see cleared that particular evening. 

And last, but not least, Alec knew how to draw. More than that, he knew how to draw _exactly_ what Magnus wanted, something he’d started to think was impossible. It brought joy back to his work, a spark of hope that he hadn’t even realized was missing until Alec reignited it.

And that feeling only grew after they closed the deal, and started to work together in earnest.

The work was flowing, design after design coming to life under Alexander’s careful hands, and Magnus was elated. The collection of his dreams being made a reality.

Magnus Bane would never create something that was less than perfect, and Alec made that achievable once more.

Additionally, Alec’s own creative input was proving invaluable. Magnus had always been protective of his designs, had struggled to stifle his instinctive refusal when someone tried to make alterations or suggestions. But he’d managed it, this time, granting Alec a measure of _trust_ he’d never quite managed with his other designers - and damn, was it paying off. Alec worked on the same wavelength as Magnus, it seemed, and his suggestions were always good; because even if they didn’t quite fit immediately, they would unfailingly _lead_ to a good idea, coaxing a new detail from Magnus’ own mind and cutting through the haze of a design’s vagueness. 

Each time they sat down together and started work on a new piece, Magnus found himself smiling, excitement and anticipation sweeping away the resignation and frustration of before.

If Magnus was the color that painted a new world, Alec was the undertone that gave it meaning and depth.

Magnus offered the lines, and Alec twisted them into place, turned them into shapes.

Magnus’ words created the idea, and Alec’s hands made it real.

And if Magnus’ heart fluttered a little bit every time his eyes lingered for a moment longer on Alec, every time Alec looked up at him with those bright blue eyes under his long eyelashes... well, nobody needed to know that.

Honestly, the most difficult part of working with Alec was getting used to those abominable sweaters. Alec had a few that he wore in rotation - and their colors were always faded beyond recognition, their loose threads and holes so plentiful it was a miracle they stayed on Alec’s frame. Plus, Magnus was certain they were at _least_ two sizes too big.

If he had his way, he would _burn_ those sweaters, and declare that merely their continued existence was a crime - but (perhaps unfortunately) he’d never been the kind of person to force someone else to wear what they didn’t want to. Hell, he hadn’t even instituted a dress code for his employees, unwilling to muscle in on anyone else’s self-expression when he really wanted to _allow_ for it. After all, that was the primary joy of his job, the clothes he sold providing an avenue for people to display their inner selves in an outward way. 

And whilst Magnus liked to make a statement with the way he dressed - he relished the chance to make a visual impact, felt powerful and invincible wearing his personal taste as armor - Alec seemed happy enough to stay comfortable and warm with his clothing, any other factor falling by the wayside.

And well, that was fair enough. Plus, Magnus couldn’t deny that Alec looked really soft in those large sweaters, especially when he gave Magnus one of those shy smiles that made something inside of him turn into goo.

So no, Alec really wasn’t what Magnus had expected.

He was so much better.

~*~ 

With their MMORPG winter event over, _The Runes_ were now preparing for the launch of their new dating sim - possible, in no small part, thanks to Magnus’ first installment of his investment. It was interesting work - this one focused on magical elements, unlike their more reality-based sims from their early years as a company - but unfortunately, the development process was throwing Alec’s schedule into total disarray. 

Magnus had to make adjustments too, balancing his professional life with his personal commitments – in particular, trying to make sure that Max’s routine wasn’t too disrupted by his dad’s new schedule. For that reason, Alec always tried to make sure Magnus knew well in advance what time he’d be coming by, so that he could make the necessary arrangements. Sometimes, that meant Clary landing more babysitting hours, either at Magnus’ home or in Max’s private playroom within Magnus’ offices. Other times, especially during the later sessions, it would mean Max sitting in one of his father’s offices with Alec and Magnus while they worked, mostly keeping his promise to draw quietly (or napping on the couch) so that they could still focus. 

When Max was with them, Alec would use their occasional breaks to check in on his work, offering encouragement and feedback on his drawings, and asking for Max’s opinions on his in turn. It never failed to earn him a giddy smile from the toddler – after all, all kids liked to be treated like grown-ups, to feel like they were part of what was going on – and he was clearly keeping himself firmly in Max’s good books, if the end-of-day cheek kisses bestowed on him were any sign. Magnus watched the exchange with a mixture of fondness and longingness, feeling something warm attach to his chest.

It was one of their later nights when it happened. They were done for the day, and Alec opened his mouth to say goodbye - only to be interrupted by his own stomach, growling absurdly loud in the silent office. 

And before Alec could open his mouth to apologize or maybe just give any excuse, Magnus chuckled and gestured to a mall on the other side of the street.

“Sounds like you’re about as hungry as I am. Why don’t we go and grab dinner together?”

Alec blinked in surprise, but nodded, his small smile returned by Magnus.

“Yeah, it would be nice,” his blue eyes twinkled for a second, and then he was already rushing towards the mall.

Not before tripping twice at the sidewalk.

They ended up at a burger joint. Usually Magnus would go to one of the fancy restaurants on the highest floor, but he knew that if he suggested that, Alec would say he wasn’t hungry anymore. Magnus was stubborn enough to recognize an equal fellow, and he was certain that Alec wouldn’t like someone else paying for him. So, the best option was a place both could afford.

Then again, Magnus enjoyed a good old-fashioned burger. Who didn’t? 

~*~

They’d almost finished their meal, now, and Magnus was feeling pleasantly full. 

“How do you do that?” Alec asked suddenly, and Magnus’ last bite of bacon and beef deliciousness paused halfway to his mouth.

“Do what?” he asked, confused.

“That,” Alec repeated, pointing to Magnus’ shirt - an extremely pale blue button-up, today, with black buttons that matched the embroidery on the epaulettes. “You’ve got to be the only person I’ve ever seen eat a loaded burger without spilling _anything._ It’s impossible to eat this without dropping half of the ingredients or sprinkle your clothes with sauce or ending up with a mess of ketchup on your face _.”_ Technically, his words were a compliment, but his expression held a fair amount of indignant outrage, as if Magnus’ cleanliness was the highest offense.

Magnus chuckled. 

“Well, for starters, I didn’t have barbecue sauce on mine,” he said, gesturing to the impressive smudge on Alec’s left cheek, and trying not to laugh again when Alec’s eyes went wide, his hands fumbling the napkin as he realized what Magnus meant and tried to hastily wipe away the evidence.

He failed, if the thoroughly unimpressed glare he received from Alec was any indication. He shrugged apologetically, sipping nonchalantly at his sangria and humming along to the pop track coming over the nearby speakers as he glanced around the rest of the restaurant.

It was a nice place, full of young people and happy chatter, even at this time of night. He and Alec were definitely amongst the quieter patrons, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable sort of silence. It felt kind of nice, actually. Companionable.

Magnus was considering heading up to order himself another drink when an excited shout, followed by a chorus of cheers, drew his attention to the back of the restaurant. A group of student-types were playing pool, and from their reactions, he guessed that one of them had just made some sort of impressive trick shot. There was also a loud accusation of one of the players apparently hustling the other. Magnus smiled faintly at that. He loved to play pool. Now… Now he couldn’t even hold the damn cue without pain.

“Does it hurt to play?” Alec’s voice brought Magnus’ attention back to their table, the cautious sympathy in his eyes provoking the barest twitch of a smile on Magnus’ own expression. Apparently, Alexander Lightwood’s borderline-telepathic powers regarding Magnus weren’t limited to drawing his designs.

“Honestly? Yeah,” Magnus said, the indifference he wanted for that statement not quite landing, even as he shrugged. “Sorry to get so distracted. Everyone’s got their sob story, but it’s generally impolite to get lost in it during a friendly dinner.”

“No, I get it,” Alec said, huffing a humorless laugh. “And the worst part is, when it happens, it’s awkward as hell to try and make the proper excuse, isn’t it? I zoned out the other day during work – managed not to listen to a whole speech Jace was giving about our last project’s performance in the West European market – and when he asked me what the hell I was doing, it seemed kind of overdramatic to say _sorry, I was having a flashback about Mom and Dad kicking me out,_ you know?”

Magnus’ face twisted, somewhere between a smile at Alec’s humor and sadness at what he’d said. “They kicked you out?” he asked gently.

“Yeah,” Alec said. “Somehow, they found out that I’m gay, and that was it as far as they were concerned.”

“I’m sorry,” Magnus said.

Alec shrugged. “It’s fine. At least I don’t have to deal with them anymore.”

He looked down at his empty plate, and gave a quiet chuckle. “Sorry,” he said. “Kinda derailed that. I didn’t mean to make things about me.”

Magnus smiled. “It’s all right. I welcome the distraction, to be honest with you. And I know it’s good to get things off your chest, sometimes.”

“Speaking of that,” Alec said, meeting Magnus’ gaze again, “do you mind if I ask you something?” Magnus tilted his head, gesturing for him to continue. “What happened to your hands?” Alec asked, his voice soft. “I mean, you mentioned an accident, and you don’t have to specify if you don’t want to, but... you know. I was just wondering.”

Magnus blew out a long breath. “Short version, I got hit by a car,” he said. “But I don’t mind sharing the long version, if you’ve got the time.” It seemed only fair, given what Alec had trusted him with a moment ago. Plus, whenever he talked about it, he tended to feel lighter afterwards – at least for a little while.

Alec nodded, and Magnus threw back the rest of his drink. “Okay,” he said. “Well, first things first. I presume you’ve heard of Camille Belcourt?” The name tasted bitter on his tongue.

Alec frowned. “The actress?”

“The very same,” Magnus confirmed. “We met when we were working on a film together – _Staked,_ that indie vampire movie, I don’t know if you’ve seen it – and we started dating pretty soon after that.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I thought she was perfect, to tell you the truth. We fought on occasion, of course. I remember one particularly ugly argument, the night I won my Oscar, when her project for the year hadn’t even been nominated for anything, but we always came back together. I was infatuated with her, and we were together for around five years, so you can imagine how entrenched she’d become in my life.” He breathed out a self-deprecating laugh. “I’d even bought a ring. I was just working up the courage to ask the question.”

He looked back down at his lap, fiddling with a stray thread on his left splint, more than a little angry at how it blurred in his vision.

There was quiet for another few moments before Alec prompted him to speak again. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

Magnus looked up, giving a bright, hollow smile. “Well, she managed to find the one thing I couldn’t forgive her,” he joked. “Turns out she was cheating on me. A _lot._ Had been the whole time.”

He sighed, looking away again, resting his head in his hand. “I was just… broken, after that. I canceled plans, I turned down calls from friends. I didn’t even leave the loft for _weeks.”_ He drummed the fingers of his free hand on the table, the rhythm distracting and soothing him a little, stretching out the knuckles that had grown stiff over the course of the day. “Then I did, if only to get my friends to stop knocking on my door and asking me to, and who should I see across the street but my lovely ex herself.” He snorted. “With a different guy to the one I caught her with, naturally.”

Magnus looked back up at Alec, smiling more genuinely at the serious expression on his face, the single-minded attention he was giving to Magnus’ tale of woe. “I was stupid,” he said softly. “Because suddenly, I was furious, and all I could think about was giving her a piece of my mind. I stepped out into the street, and… well. Let’s just say I should have looked both ways.” He swallowed hard. He could still see the fading sight of Camille’s face as she looked over at the accident - the way she’d barely glanced at him before walking away, their five years somehow leaving her with less concern for him than the passerby who’d rushed over to check on him, or the one who he’d heard calling the ambulance as he lost consciousness. 

He shook his head to clear the image and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he held out his hands, indicating the splints. “I woke up in the hospital, and they’d managed to fix most of me, but not these.” He shrugs, his mouth twitching into a tight smile. “So. That’s what happened.”

For a few torturous seconds, Alec was silent, and Magnus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wondering if he’d unloaded too much onto what was, essentially, a very new, thus-far-professional friendship. 

But then, thankfully, Alec gave a slow nod. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and Magnus inclined his head in acknowledgment.

They were quiet for a few more moments, and then Alec sat up straight, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know how you usually wind down after work, but while we’re here, you wanna check out the arcade?” he suggested. 

Magnus blinked in surprise at the change of subject,but then he smiled. “That sounds fun.”

They rose from the table, and started heading over to the bright lights and jangling noise of the arcade. “Wait a minute,” Alec said, and Magnus glanced over to see him suddenly looking baffled. “Did you say that you won an _Oscar?!”_

And with that, the last of the tension dissolved, Magnus letting out a raucous laugh. 

Alec led them straight past the air hockey and video games – good thing, too, as Magnus wasn’t sure his hands were up to either tonight – before stopping at the skee-ball. “Ten throws each. Loser pays the bill next time we do this,” Alec suggested, taking the bright green ball and handing Magnus the red. 

Magnus took it with a grin. “Game on, pretty boy.” 

They ended up making seven of the ten throws each – and then, since it became apparent they were both too competitive to be happy with that result, went to sudden death, the light-hearted trash talk only ramping up with each serve.

And Magnus ended up having such a good time, he didn’t even mind that much when he eventually lost. 

~*~

Alec was still partly a mystery to Magnus, but at least some things made more sense now - for example, the reason Alec was cut off from his parents. It wasn’t a surprise that a family so notoriously narrow-minded and ultra-conservative wouldn’t accept someone who wasn’t straight, even their own son. As someone who had also dealt with the ugly face of bigotry, Magnus understood how the battle could be tiring.

But along with new information, this new friendship Magnus found himself in came with a new set of worries. About a month after they started working together, the signs of exhaustion were starting to appear on Alec’s face, and in his general demeanor. Aside from his jobs at _The Runes_ and _Magnificent Fashion_ , Magnus was fairly sure Alec was _still_ working his part-time jobs during the weekends. It was too much for anyone to take on, no matter how young and determined they might be, and he was growing more and more suspicious that Alec wasn’t leaving himself enough time and energy to eat and sleep properly. The dark circles under his eyes were growing by the day, and sometimes he was slow to answer even simple questions. And no amount of _shall we get a snack-_ breaks from Magnus or goodbyes which ended with _go home and get some sleep_ seemed to make a difference. Alec seemed determined to power through. 

But no one could power through forever, and one night, it proved too much.

It was almost ten o'clock when Alec showed up on Magnus’ doorstep that night - his loft’s doorstep, given that the office was closed at that time - ready to work on one of Magnus’ outerwear ideas. 

He didn’t last for more than twenty minutes, his shaky hands barely making their way through his rough starting sketch before he started to sway on his chair.

Magnus sighed.

“Alexander, I think we’d better call it a day. We’ve covered your hours for the week and then some, and you’re clearly exhausted-”

“No, I can do it,” Alec insisted, interrupting Magnus’ suggestion. Letting out a ragged breath, he put his pencil down. “I’m going to go wash my face, and I’ll be alright. Give me one minute.”

It barely took one _second_ before his legs gave out, Magnus quickly throwing an arm around his waist to keep him upright.

“No,” he said firmly, in the same no-nonsense tone he occasionally had to use on Max when he was misbehaving. He guided Alec’s arm over his shoulders, ignoring his protest and leading him over to the couch. “When was the last time you slept? And I don’t mean a nap, I mean at least six hours.”

Alec narrowed his eyes, apparently trying to remember - and clearly not liking the answer, because he didn’t give one. “I’m _fine,”_ he said instead.

Magnus didn’t grace that with a response. “When was the last time that you _ate?”_ he asked, aware that he was sounding a little exasperated by now.

Again, Alec’s face remained blank as he thought back - not that it mattered, because any other answer besides _I had lunch today_ was unacceptable in any case.

Magnus ran a hand down his face. “Okay,” he said evenly. “Intervention time, Alexander. You can’t go on like this. Stay here while I get you something to eat. I don’t want you passing out. I think there are still some leftovers from dinner you can have.”

Alec blinked at him, a little dazed, but he was apparently out of arguments because he nodded slowly. Magnus made a quick work of reheating the Thai yellow curry he and Max had eaten that evening, and brought it over to Alec with a glass of lukewarm water to help with digestion. ”Eat,” he insisted, nodding in approval as Alec obliged him. “I’ll go make us some tea, and order you an Uber for a half-hour’s time. We’re done for the day.”

Ten minutes later, he came back out, bearing two mugs of tea - and stopped in his tracks. Alec had finished the bowl of curry, and was now halfway-collapsed over the arm of the couch, his eyes closed and his breathing slow as he slept.

Shaking his head fondly, Magnus tiptoed over, gently laying Alec out on the couch properly - slowly, so he wouldn’t wake him - and draping the blanket from the back of it over his lanky frame. When that was done, and Alec was apparently settled in for the night, he pulled up the app to cancel the Uber. 

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” he whispered, crouching in front of his impromptu houseguest and softly pushing a piece of his messy dark hair away from his face.

His only answer was a short, low snore.

~*~

Morning came, and with it the important task of making breakfast. Magnus opened the kitchen window, the cool breeze pleasant in the too-warm kitchen as he mixed up the ingredients for pancakes. Usually, Magnus ordered breakfast - Max needed healthier options than the eggs-and-bacon or cereal Magnus could still manage, even the simple act of peeling an apple too strenuous for his hands. 

But health wasn’t really the priority this morning. They were only human, comfort food had to be indulged in on occasion. And okay, if he was completely honest, pancakes weren’t exactly _easy_ on Magnus’ hands, but they _were_ delicious, and they had a guest, after all. Magnus had always tried to be a good host, and it wouldn’t be different this time. He could take a little extra pain medication if he got into trouble for this later. 

Soon enough, he heard the patter of small feet running through the loft, stopping when they reached the living room. Magnus promptly put down the pancake mix, hurrying to get his son before he woke Alec up.

“Ba–”

Magnus put a finger on his lips, signaling for Max to stay quiet, and then pointed to Alec. Max covered his mouth to suppress a giggle and nodded. Magnus nodded back with a wink, and beckoned Max to follow him into the kitchen.

“Pancake day?” Max asked, and Magnus nodded again, placing him on top of the counter, beside the sink.

“Yes, would you like to help me?”

“Yes, yes!” Max beamed, already reaching for their basket of fruits.

“All right then. Which fruit should go in the pancakes today?”

“The blue-bear,” Max grabbed some blueberries, leaning over the sink under Magnus’ watchful gaze and washing them in earnest, smashing half of them in his tiny fists as the water splattered over the counter.

Magnus chuckled. “Ah, excellent choice. I’m sure Alexander will love it, too. After all, your blueberry pancakes are the best in the world.” Magnus reached over with a smile, taking the blueberries and discreetly palming away the squished ones before dropping the rest into the batter.

“Bapa, did you and Alec do a sleepover? Like with the movies and the popcorn and the mar’mellows?” Max asked curiously.

Magnus shook his head. “Not quite, sweetheart. Alec was very tired last night, too tired to go home. So I let him sleep here.”

“Why is he on the couch?” Max asked, wiping the sticky blueberry mess on his pajama pants. “You said the couch isn’t good for sleeping, ‘cause that’s what beds are for. You should have shared your bed. Like me when Tavvy came and did a sleepover,” he declared. 

Magnus cleared his throat, forcing a smile.

“He was very tired, Blueberry. I didn’t want to wake him up to move him from the couch. I’m sure after he eats your magical pancakes, he’ll be okay, even though he slept on the couch. So let’s do our best, okay?”

Thankfully, Max seemed satisfied with that answer. “Okay.”

He looked away again, distracted by the task of fetching more blueberries, and Magnus let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

 _Thank god he didn’t ask that in front of Alexander,_ he thought. 

~*~

“Cream or sugar?” Magnus asked, placing a tray with fresh coffee and a plate full of pancakes – with a (very, very) generous amount of blueberries and honey thanks to Max – on the coffee table in front of Alec, who was just starting to stir.

Alec looked at the tray, and then at Magnus, confusion in his gaze - and then jolted upright, wincing when that placed his still-bleary eyes in direct sunlight.

He glanced around, his confusion slowly morphing into mild horror and embarrassment. 

“Oh, god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just... I was just so _tired -”_ He cut himself off, drawing himself up tall and injecting a little dignity into his tone as he looked at Magnus with an apology written on his face. “Thank you for letting me crash here, I’m sorry to have troubled you. I’ll get out of your hair.” He was already getting up, his hands casting about until he found his phone, the keys that Magnus had gently lifted from his pocket and placed on a nearby chair, but his departure was quickly thwarted as Max reappeared, carrying more blueberries straight towards him with a giant smile on his face, heedless of the ones he dropped on the way.

“More blue-bears for Alec!” he declared. 

Magnus smiled fondly at his son, then turned to Alec.

“It was no trouble at all. Honestly, I’m just glad you got a decent night’s sleep. It certainly seems like you needed it. Now, why don’t you stay for breakfast? I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my son happens to make the finest blueberry pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

Alec threw a smile at Max. “I don’t doubt it,” he agreed, his smile growing when Max visibly preened at the compliment, “but I really shouldn’t, I ought to-” Alec’s hands stilled where they’d been fiddling with a hole in his sleeve, his eyes going wide in dismay. “My siblings. They must be worried, they’re probably wondering why I didn’t come home last night.” He grabbed for his cell phone again, presumably checking for missed call or messages.

He wouldn’t find any, Magnus knew that - and he cleared his throat, recapturing Alec’s attention.

”It’s all right, Alexander. They know you’re here. I texted Clary after you fell asleep, and she promised to fill them in.” He smirked. “Even sent her a picture - at their request, apparently - so that they knew you were being properly taken care of,” he teased. 

Alec groaned quietly. “At their request.” His voice was flat, and it was clear he wasn’t buying the idea of innocent, worried siblings asking after him. 

“Well, they are pretty persuasive,” Magnus said lightly. “After all, I understand their desire to make sure you were safe.” _Or to obtain free blackmail material,_ he thought, his mind turning to the folder of less-than-flattering photos of Raphael, Catarina and Ragnor on his own phone. Though he kept his agreement with Alec’s apparent suspicions to himself - the poor guy seemed likely to die of embarrassment if Magnus confronted it directly, and what a waste of Max’s pancakes that would be. 

“God,” Alec grumbled, sitting again and covering his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry so much, darling, you’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

At that moment, it seemed, Max’s patience for watching this pre-breakfast exchange ran out. “Here,” he chirped, pushing the plate of pancakes towards Alec rather insistently.

“Thank you, Max.” Alec ruffled his hair, finally accepting the food and eating properly. Magnus hummed, satisfied, and tucked into his own portion. 

Breakfast passed quickly after that, Max babbling happily at Alec while Alec nodded seriously and chimed in on occasion, doing a commendable job of keeping up with the toddler’s rambling. Magnus just watched on, a quiet smile on his lips as he finished his food.

A short while later, they were all done eating, and Magnus sent Max to brush his teeth. Magnus turned back to Alec, who was already taking the dishes to the kitchen. 

“Alec, I have a question for you,” he started, reaching out to take some of the dishes himself. “Why do you still work so many part-time jobs? Is my investment not panning out as planned, for your company to need so much extra income? With how well our deal is working out for me and my designs, I wouldn’t want your company to still be struggling despite our arrangement.” _Nor you,_ he thought, but he kept that to himself. Sure, they were friends now, but money had an odd way of bringing out a person’s pride and defensiveness. 

Alec shook his head. “No, it’s not that. We’re in a much stronger position with your investment - as a company, and as its employees. You’ve got nothing to worry about on that front.” He sighed, placing his armful of dishes in the sink and then turning back to Magnus, almost bumping into him. There wasn’t a lot of space between this particular counter and the island in the middle of the kitchen, and as a result, they were standing close enough that Alec had to tilt his head up a little bit to meet Magnus’ gaze. “Honestly, it’s more of a _me_ problem,” he confessed, laughing a little even as he averted his eyes again. “At first, I didn’t want to leave people in the lurch at those places because they were short-staffed. Then, when that wasn’t a problem anymore, I just…” He shrugged. “I think I’m just used to it, to tell you the truth. The more time I can put in, the more certain I can be of a safety net, you know? I don’t wanna be caught out again.”

“I get it,” Magnus said, tilting his head a little to try and reposition himself in Alec’s eye line. “I can understand the need to find that security, no matter how hard you have to work for it. But I think there’s a better way - one that won’t have you running yourself into the ground.” Alec looked back up at him, and Magnus smiled. “I already told you weekends were a possibility for our design sessions, and that offer still stands. You’d still be working, still be making that investment in yourself and your company, but unless you really lucked out in your weekend jobs, I’m guessing that design work is a lot less physically and emotionally demanding than the retail and service you’re currently doing. Plus, I know for a fact I’m more local to you, so you won’t have to spend so long commuting.” 

Alec shook his head ruefully. “It’s kind of you to offer,” he said. “And you’re not wrong on any of those counts. But I know how seriously you take your weekends with Max, and he needs that time with you. You’re already doing us a favor with this deal, I can’t impose on you any further.”

“It’s no imposition,” Magnus insisted. “Max adores you, that much is certain. If you came here on the weekends instead of meeting me at the office, we could spend a few hours on some designs without cutting into my time with Max. You know he likes to offer his expertise anyway,” he said with a wink. 

Alec smiled at that, but he still seemed reluctant. “Magnus, I... I can't... I-I...”

Magnus lifted a finger to cut off his protests, almost touching Alec’s lips with how close they still were.

“Think about it?” he suggested. “Take the day. I know I’m your only shift today, and as I told you last night, we’re already ahead for the week. Go home, rest a little more, and then,” Magnus winked, “decide.”

Finally, Alec nodded. “Okay,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over Magnus’ hand and abruptly reminding him to lower it. “I’ll think it over. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Magnus said - and stepped away, hoping that it simply seemed he was going to check on Max rather than suddenly needing a little distance. 

Camaraderie was one thing, and Alexander was certainly delightful when met with some friendly teasing. But, as Magnus sternly reminded himself, it wouldn’t do to become _entirely_ unprofessional. 

However tempting that may be. 

~*~

“Maxwell Bane!”

Magnus’ voice boomed inside the ensuite, his frustration boiling over as he tried to convince a very reticent toddler to get into the bathtub. Max had been cranky ever since he got home, and Magnus was almost sure that something must have happened at daycare. But between the sulking, the tantrums, and now the argument over bathtime, Magnus still hadn’t managed to find out exactly what the problem was.

Max, for his part, curled into a ball on the bathroom floor, totally ignoring his father and holding onto his t-shirt stubbornly. And honestly, Magnus couldn’t fault his logic. The kid didn’t want a bath, and it’s not like he could take one while he was still dressed. Not unless his father got desperate enough to try that, of course. 

Magnus sighed, considering whether it would be for the best to distract Max and hope he calmed down, and try the bath again later. A voice at the bathroom door broke his train of thought, claiming his attention.

“Is everything alright?” Alec asked, looking a little worried.

Magnus sighed again, rubbing his tired face as he nodded. He’d completely forgotten that he’d left Alec working alone on those denim concepts while he stepped out to get Max ready for bed. He’d likely been in here long enough by now that Alec had finished, and ought to be getting home. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, it’s just one of those days,” Magnus said with a shrug, reaching out to try and gently coax Max out of his ball.

“No!” Max yelled, getting to his feet and running around the bathtub, clearly trying to get away from Magnus.

Magnus shook his head despairingly, trying to stifle the pang of hurt at that rejection. 

“Can I talk to him?” Alec’s voice was soft and sincere, and Magnus found himself hesitating, his instinctive brush-off of _no, it’s okay, he’ll be fine_ on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he bit his lower lip and nodded, leaving the bathroom without another word and heading directly to his drinks cabinet. He tiredly served himself a glass of whiskey, trying not to let his mind wander to that unpleasantly familiar place - the one echoing with Asmodeus’ and Camille’s voices, telling him how utterly unequipped he was for fatherhood. How much of a disappointment he was to those stronger than him. How much Max would resent and hate him one day, for not being able to give him what he needed-

His thought spiral was interrupted when he heard a suspiciously _splashy_ sound, followed by the quiet thrum of Alec’s voice through the walls and the unmistakable sound of Max _giggling._

Hardly daring to hope, he put down his near-empty glass, and decided to risk a peek around the bathroom door.

He was immediately greeted by a faceful of bathwater.

Spluttering, he blinked away the bubbles - only to get hit again, this time square in the chest.

“Max,” Alec admonished, barely containing his laughter. “That’s not very nice. Why would you splash your bapa?” 

“I _didn’t!”_ Max said indignantly, slamming his hands down into the water and gazing at Magnus with large, earnest eyes. “It was _Alec,_ Bapa!”

Alec gasped. “Lies,” he declared - and then scooped up another wave of water, coating Magnus once again. “Max, stop it!”

 _“I didn’t!”_ Max shrieked, throwing water at Alec - a lot less of it, given how tiny his hands were in comparison to Alec’s. “It was _you!”_

“I’m inclined to agree with Max here, Alexander,” Magnus said gravely - and then he let a slow, menacing smile creep across his expression. “Blueberry?” he said airily. 

“Yeah?”

_“Get him.”_

Alec’s eyes went wide, and he got to his feet, but not before Max crowed in triumph, pushing as much water towards him as he could and thoroughly soaking his jeans. He looked down at the sodden fabric - and Magnus _pounced,_ lifting him bodily and cheerfully depositing him in the bathtub. 

He spluttered an incredulous laugh, and Max cheered, laughing as he splashed even more water at their soaking wet victim. 

Some of which ended up on Magnus, of course. 

He clutched at his heart. “Betrayal!” he cried, grabbing a hold of Max and retaliating - this time, by tickling him, his fingers dancing clumsily over the toddler’s neck, armpits, ribs. 

“No!” Max shrieked, his peals of laughter echoing off the tiles. “Bapa, I didn’t-” the rest of his words were lost to laughter, his giddy joy coaxing the grin back on to Magnus’ face. 

It was a long time before the water fight was over - at one point, Alec had grabbed the shower head and aimed it at Magnus, and he’d used Max as a shield, which had the added bonus of rinsing the bubbles out of his hair - but eventually, they ran out of steam, Alec declaring a truce and Magnus nodding an agreement, too breathless to answer properly. 

Magnus dried Max off, helped him into his pajamas, and kissed him goodnight, all the tantrum of earlier forgotten. “All right,” he said with a smile, eyeing Alec up and down as he closed Max’s door. “One down, one to go. Come on, I’ll lend you something to wear. They’ll never let you in the cab like that.”

Ten minutes later, they were sat at opposite ends of the couch as Alec waited for his lift to arrive - Magnus bundled up in some of his favorite silk pajamas, Alec in a soft black t-shirt with BLINK IF YOU WANT ME written on it in sequins and sweatpants that were, surprisingly, the perfect length. Apparently, he was relatively leggier than Magnus. His own clothes sat in a slightly squelchy plastic bag on the floor nearby. 

“Thank you for your help tonight,” Magnus said with a tired, but honest, smile. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here. I just wasn’t getting through to him. I have no idea why.”

Alec pulled a slightly uncomfortable face. “I do,” he admitted, smiling a little sheepishly as Magnus stared at him. “Apparently, one of the kids in Max’s daycare has a dad that works for you. The kid said that you yelled at his dad, and it would seem that as the rumor spread, a few of the kids ganged up on Max, telling him that you were mean and horrible.” 

Magnus swallowed. “Oh.”

“Which is obviously crap,” Alec continued, matter-of-fact. “It’s the total opposite of what your employees think of you, from what I’ve heard around the office and from Clary. Whatever you said to that kid’s father, I’m sure he had it coming.”

Magnus was less sure of that, aware that when he was up against a deadline, he could be what some called _insensitive_ (and what Ragnor called _a right impatient bastard)._ Still, it was nice to hear a vote of confidence. 

Alec shrugged. “I don’t think Max believed it, of course - more likely that he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. But in any case, that’s why I started the water fight. Thought it might show Max your fun side, prove once and for all that those kids don’t know what they’re talking about.” He smiled. “Plus, I figured it would get him clean and tire him out, too.” 

Magnus chuckled, leaning back in his seat, exhaustion weighing his eyelids down. “That’s ingenious,” he said. “You’re exactly the super-sitter I needed tonight. God, I could kiss you.” 

At that moment, Alec’s phone went off. “Maybe later,” he joked. “My ride’s here.”

Alec collected his things and they said their goodbyes. 

The front door closed, and Magnus let out a deep breath. _It was only a joke,_ he told himself. _I was kidding, he was kidding, that’s all._

Sighing, he got up, flicked off the lights, and made his way to bed. 

~*~

The front door closed, and Alec made his way down the stairs, trying to ignore the thumping of his heart. 

_Don’t be an idiot,_ he berated himself. _It was only a joke._

~*~

It was a Tuesday afternoon, and Magnus was working from home, Clary watching Max in the next room. He was halfway through reviewing a new proposal from one of their southern distributors when the call came in - apparently, one of Alec’s pictures (specifically, one depicting a ballgown concept) had gone through a sewing machine in the textile research department during fabric appraisal and selection. The team in charge of that stage could try to choose fabrics from memory, of course; but Magnus remembered that particular design, just how many different textures it encompassed in its dichrome color palette, and it probably wasn’t worth the risk of moving on to the next stage without the clearest starting point possible. 

Thankfully, when he texted Alec asking when he was next available to replace the sketch, he got a prompt response offering to meet him in the office as soon as possible, and he agreed with no small amount of relief. 

He shrugged on his coat, thanking Clary for agreeing to watch Max a little longer. “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he promised.

However, despite Clary being on board, it seemed that Max had other ideas.

“I want to go too. Want to see Alec drawing!” He puffed his cheeks and crossed his arms, pouting.

“Blueberry, we aren’t going to play this time,” Magnus explained. “It’s not like when Alec normally comes over, we need to go fix a problem. I need you to behave and listen to Clary, please.”

“No!”

“Max-!” He stopped himself from shouting, taking a deep breath. “Max, please. This is important, okay?”

Max’s eyes were full of tears, and he was clearly trying hard to not cry as he silently nodded - and when the first tears started to spill, Clary offered up an idea.

“Why don’t we head over there with you?” she suggested. “I can stay with Max in his playroom with the intercom on. So, he can listen to you _and_ Alec.” 

Magnus elected to ignore the amused glint in her eyes - he _really_ didn’t have time for that implication today - and looked back at Max.

His son’s grin sealed the deal, and so he nodded. “It’s a plan,” he agreed, taking Max into his arms and kissing his forehead. “Come on then, you two.”

Max continued to grin, all the fussiness of a few minutes ago gone. It would seem that charming Banes of all sizes was one of Alexander Lightwood’s mysterious talents.

Which was wonderful, of course. But if Magnus was honest, it was also a little terrifying. 


	4. Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluff continues ~ 
> 
> Also, this chapter has an honorable mention of [The Dragon Wars](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793539) series by Val. It's amazing, so check it out if you have time 😉

“A friendship oath?” Alec put down his container of beef noodles and looked back up at Jace, who was sat on the floor opposite him, slurping his own portion.

“Yeah, for the platonic path of the game. I mean, we can put it in the other paths too, maybe, but I think it would be nice to have something special for the choices that prioritise friendship,” his brother explained, stuffing his mouth with yet more food. “A sp’cial sort of platonic b’nd, with s’m-sort of magical power associatet with it,” he said. 

Izzy grimaced, presumably at the delightful display of mashed-up food they’d gotten during that last sentence. “Jace, that’s a good idea, but you’re also disgusting. Swallow before you speak!” Thankfully, she didn’t throw a cushion at him on this occasion The last time she did that during a similar argument, she’d also hit his can of beer, and their living room had quickly turned into a sticky mess.

Alec sighed, allowing himself a moment to dwell on the new war zone their tiny apartment became almost every day. It had gotten better over time, at least - when they’d started living together two years ago, it was chaos, pure and simple. They’d grown up in a huge house, each used to having their own space; then the three of them had moved in together, and ended up having to share one shabby bedroom. Izzy would sleep on the bed while Jace and Alec rotated between the couch and a mattress on the floor.

When  _ The Runes _ started to flourish a little more and they began to receive decent returns on their initial investment, they’d been able to afford a better place to live. It was still small, but at least each one had their own bed now, and a little more privacy.

...Well, the privacy part was still a work in progress. Alec had lost count of how many times he’d caught first Jace and Clary, and then Izzy and Simon, getting into... certain  _ activities _ he’d never wanted to see his siblings getting into.

Eventually, he’d bought himself a cheap customized T-shirt with ‘STOP STRAIGHT PEOPLE’ written on it in bold letters. And sure, it was very much  _ not  _ his style, but something had to be done, didn’t it? Anything to help his siblings get the message.

Aside from those shenanigans, it had become a common occurrence to talk about new ideas for their games and update each other on various factors of the business while eating take-out in the living room. Out of the three of them, Alec was the closest to a decent cook, but most of the time he was too tired to even crack an egg after work - and that had been  _ before _ he started working for Magnus.

Working with Magnus was… different. A good different. Alec loved his siblings to death, but they were his  _ siblings,  _ which meant they knew how to make him go crazy without even trying. Even when they were at work, sometimes Alec felt the urge to throw a printer at them. And honestly, that kind of chaos was fun and joyful, usually, but that didn’t mean Alec wasn’t a little exhausted.

Meanwhile, with Magnus, work was almost... soothing. He was calm and professional. His words carried the deep knowledge of years of experience. He demanded respect, but wasn’t authoritative or arrogant - he was generous, and kind, and unbelievably understanding. He guided Alec through the process, letting him know about the fashion industry’s intricacies to give him a helpful base of knowledge - and so despite his persistent half-fluster around him, Alec always felt at ease, too.

Magnus was more than the gorgeous man that had caught Alec’s eye at the start of all this. He was smart, and competent, and professional; and Alec appreciated it to no end. 

The night Alec had told his siblings about Magnus’ deal, Izzy had preened, apparently not only knowing of Magnus but also possessing a few pieces of clothing from his lines. Jace, being Jace, had teased Alec about Magnus being exactly his type and how it was  _ about time he had some fun. _

Alec had never hit someone so hard with a cushion.

The teasing had only gotten worse as time went on - but at the same time, it didn’t quite carry the same lighthearted mockery as it had before. It was almost similar to the shift that had happened between making fun of Jace for mooning over Clary, and making fun of them for being disgusting lovebirds when they actually got together. 

Alec tried not to think too hard about that. His situation with Magnus, wonderful as it was professionally and as a friendship, was unnerving enough on that more taboo front. He could do without the extra implications. 

~*~

To be honest, Alec still knew next to nothing about Magnus Bane. Okay, he knew he was famous and important in the fashion industry - Izzy had referred to him as  _ the Beyoncé of clothes _ \- but that was it. 

So, when he wanted to know more, he did what any self-respecting millennial would do, and opened up Google.

It seemed a little rude, of course, using the internet to find out more about someone you knew in real life, but Alec didn’t see much of an alternative. Still, the online world was a land without law, full of rumors and mean comments, so he made sure to take most of what he read with a pinch of salt. 

A trivia website said that Magnus’ favorite color was blue? Maybe so. But you could never be certain. 

Still, other things seemed more certain - for example, his cat having his own Instagram account. That could easily have been made up, and yet there the account was, complete with pictures that featured Magnus himself, or details from inside his apartment - like the couch Alec had spent the night on. 

Max showed up in Alec’s search occasionally, too - thankfully, nothing vitriolic, just some cute photos of both of them together at a toy store.

But in the midst of the bits and pieces of Magnus’ life - both likely and unlikely to be real, and surrounded by gossip either way - it was through interviews that Magnus’ true self shone. He was funny and charming in equal measure, like that part of his personality had just been ‘dialed up’ slightly for the cameras, and Alec found himself laughing out loud at a clip of Magnus on  _ Ellen.  _

His humor dissipated, however, when he came across a video of Magnus’ Oscar acceptance speech. The passion in his words, how clear it was that he was so happy to have made something people enjoyed… Alec would have defied  _ anyone  _ not to get emotional at that. 

Maybe one day he would be brave and ask Magnus about that moment, talk about what he’d said. Maybe one day, that kind of connection - talking about something so personal as the impact one wanted to leave on the world, the fabric of how one wanted to weave their life... maybe it would feel  _ good,  _ instead of just nerve-wracking.

But for now, he just continued his googling, and let thoughts of the future stay there. 

(And if, a little while later, he caught himself staring a  _ little  _ too long at a particular photoshoot Magnus had taken part in… well, who had to know?)

~*~

“So. Archery?”

Alec hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes sharp on the lines of the bubble skirt he was drawing. Magnus sat comfortably next to him, his head propped up by his right hand while his left fiddled with one of his shirt buttons. Alec’s glance revealed that he, too, was focused on the drawing, despite the easy conversation between them.

“It’s a long-time hobby,” Alec continued, turning back to the sketch. “I used to be the president of our high school archery club. My parents didn’t exactly  _ approve, _ but they let me be as long as I kept my grades up, didn’t let it become  _ a distraction  _ or anything.” 

He reached for a spring green pencil - but then paused for a moment, considering that choice. He squinted a little, his eyes flicking between Magnus, the sketch, and the pencil, trying to consider how they fit together.

A moment later, he made his choice and picked up the mint green pencil instead.

Magnus hummed in appreciation, and Alec smiled.

He was about to launch into the story of an archery competition during his senior year, but was interrupted by Magnus’ cell phone going off.

Magnus glanced at the caller ID and frowned slightly. “It’s from my main textile supplier. Sorry, darling, this may take some time.”

“Go on, take it,” Alec said, and Magnus returned his smile before making his way to the balcony.

Alec kept drawing for a while, retouching some of the finer details, until he caught sight of something moving in his peripheral vision. At first, he thought it was Chairman Meow – the tiny cat had taken a liking to Alec pretty early on, and would often appear to rub his head on Alec’s leg and demand chin scratches.

However, it wasn’t Chairman Meow today - it was even better.

“Hey, Max.” Alec smiled kindly, putting down his pencil. “How are you feeling?”

“Bad,” Max whined, sniffing and gazing up at Alec with slightly-glazed eyes. Apparently, the cold that had kept him home from daycare (and had therefore made the loft Alec and Magnus’ base of operations for the day) was out in full force. “My tummy hurts and I can’t sleep.”

He reached for Alec with the hand not holding his cat plushie, and Alec made a sympathetic noise as he scooped the toddler up into his arms. 

“Hm… You like superheroes, right?”

Max perked up a bit at that. “Yes! My favorite is Batman. He’s so cool.”

“He is,” Alec agreed. “But today, how about I tell you a story with different superheroes? Ones you’ve never heard about before, but I think you’ll like?”

“Okay,” Max said, curling against his chest.

“Alright.” Alec sat on the couch and lowered his voice, slipping easily into the role of storyteller. “Somewhere far, far away, there’s a place with lots of magical people,” he began. “Fairies, warlocks, vampires, werewolves, and half-angels. And there are humans there, too, and it’s the job of the magical people to keep them safe from demons,” he explains. “So, one day, there are these part-angel demon-hunters, going around and doing their job, keeping the humans safe with their bows and arrows and their swords – when this new girl turns up, and it turns out that she’s half-dragon, and she can breathe fire! A fire as red as her hair. But she’s always lived with humans, so she doesn’t know what to do to be part of the magical world – and wow, what a mess she makes,” he said with a grin, pleased when Max giggled, his tummy-ache apparently forgotten for the time being. 

“So, the demon-hunters try to help her learn what to do, but it’s not easy. She hasn’t had to follow the rules before, so she’s very disobedient, and keeps getting into arguments with the demon-hunters about it.”

“Oh no,” Max said with a frown. “This is not nice.”

“That’s right,” Alec agreed, “but the thing is, she’s only disobedient because really, she’s very sad and angry – because magic is new and scary to her, and the only reason she knows about it now is because her mom’s gone missing.”

Max’s face softened. “That’s sad,” he said. “Is she going to come back?”

“Well, that’s what her new friends are going to help her with,” Alec said, smiling. “So, they agree to help her find her mom, and the first thing they do is go and ask a powerful warlock for his help.” 

“What’s a warlock?”

“Someone with magic. Someone who can cast spells, and make potions, and even summon demons.”

“Like a wizard?”

“Sort of. But he doesn’t use a wand, only his hands.”

“Cool!” Max declared.

“It is,” Alec chuckled. “So, they go to the warlock’s house - and when they get there, the warlock is having a birthday party for his cat.”

Max’s eyes widened. “Bapa does that too!” he said, grinning. “Chairman Meow’s birthday is after mine.”

“He does?” Alec asked, a little surprised. Sure, he knew Magnus was a little eccentric, but the words  _ cat birthday party  _ didn’t exactly fit with his sharp professional image. “That’s nice of him,” he said, well-aware he was smiling at the mental image. “So. They get to this birthday party…”

A short while later, the oldest demon-hunter was sharing strength with the warlock to fight against the bad guy together, and Max was finally drifting off to sleep in Alec’s arms.

“You really are good with him.”

Alec startled slightly, suddenly remembering that they weren’t alone. 

“Thanks,” he said softly, looking up at Magnus with a sheepish smile. “Sorry I didn’t get the sketch finished yet. Max wasn’t feeling well, and I guess I got a little carried away.”

Magnus waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that, Alexander. Honestly, I appreciate your priorities in this instance - after all, they align rather closely with my own.” He sat beside Alec on the couch, smiling fondly at his son. “That story of yours was very interesting, by the way.”

Alec smiled, ducking his head and looking at Max instead. “Thanks. My parents were away a lot when we were growing up, so I used to come up with all kinds of bedtime stories for my siblings.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s probably why we make fantasy games now, honestly. Guess it’s kind of sentimental - it’s something we’ve always shared.”

Magnus smiled, and then reached out as if to take Max, but stopped abruptly. “I, uh-” He cleared his throat. “On second thoughts, would you mind putting him to bed?” he asked. “He looks comfortable, I don’t want to risk disturbing him.”

Alec nodded, a little confused at Magnus’ uncharacteristic stumbling but happy to help. “Sure thing. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Max’s room was quiet and dark, the curtains still drawn from his earlier attempt at napping, and Alec managed to lay him back down without waking him. He pulled the blankets up over the toddler and the cat plushie he was still holding onto, even in sleep – and then smiled, deciding to risk a quick kiss to Max’s temple, a little overwhelmed by the swell of domestic affection in his heart.

He shut the door as quietly as possible, and wandered back over to the living room – where Magnus was still sitting, apparently breaking out of his thoughts as Alec came back in. “Right,” he said brightly, getting to his feet and turning a full-wattage smile on Alec, his earlier uncertainty seemingly gone, now. “I know you wanted to be getting back soon, and that’s fine – but first, would you like to stay for lunch?”

Alec considered it for a moment, checking the time on his phone – he really ought to be getting back by now, was already running later than he’d meant to; but it’s not like he had a set time to be back at  _ The Runes,  _ and his siblings had been managing the extra workload admirably in his absence. They’d be alright in the time it took him to have a proper lunch break, surely?

He looked back at Magnus, ignoring the customary flutter in his stomach when their eyes met. “Lunch would be great, thank you,” he agreed. 

~*~

Progress was good, and the first four months of their arrangement seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. All the sketches were done by this point, the outfits well and truly in production. But even though Alec’s sketches weren’t requested anymore, he still came by often, taking on a role of creative oversight and helping to fine-tune the details. After all, he was still getting paid, according to the contract - he was going to earn Magnus’ investment fair and square.

And speaking of his contract, there was still one pending clause to finalize - one that he spent a good while discussing with Ragnor before they reached a decision.

After that, it didn’t come as much of a surprise when Magnus broached the topic. “Alexander,” he said, leaning back in his chair and seeming to assess Alec across the small table. “Might I ask why you’re choosing to remain anonymous, instead of having your name associated with all the work you’ve done on this collection?”

Alec hummed consideringly, organizing his thoughts as he sipped at his espresso. Around them, a low echo of jazz music filled the cozy café. “Have you ever played one of our games?” he asked. 

Magnus blinked. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t. I’ve been meaning to, but-” He cut himself off, Alec resisting a smile as he saw Magnus process his question, realizing the significance of it. “But I know you don’t have your name associated with your company or its products,” he said. “You and your siblings use pseudonyms in the credits, if I remember correctly?”

Alec nodded. “We do. Though they’re fairly cryptic ones, and they have something of a story behind them.” He paused, only continuing when Magnus gestured for him to go on. “There is a reason our company is called  _ The Runes _ . I’ve already mentioned that our parents would leave us alone a lot, even overnight. They never bothered hiring a sitter.” He scoffed, because in hindsight, his parents’ reasoning had been ridiculous. “They liked to say that  _ fear was a weakness, _ and nobody got anywhere  _ in the real world _ by being a cry baby. If we were afraid, we had to suck it up.”

Alec paused for a moment to exhale deeply, trying to focus on the warm feeling from the cup to soothe the swell of hurt and anger.

“It sounds like they were raising soldiers, not children.” Magnus commented, and there was an edge to his voice. It struck Alec as a contained kind of anger; unsurprising, given Magnus’ kind demeanor, not to mention his own loving approach to parenting.

“You’re not wrong,” Alec agreed. “But in any case, you know how kids make up little superstitions, things that make them feel safe? Well, when Jace, Izzy and I were scared, we dealt with it by creating an entire book of little… protective symbols, I guess. And I was enough of a mythology nerd that we started calling them ‘runes’.” Despite the circumstances that had given rise to it, Alec couldn’t help but smile a little at the memory. It had been  _ fun,  _ turning away from fear and creating something magical instead. “There were all sorts. Ones that would make us stronger so we could defend ourselves if we had to, or faster so we could run away. Less obvious ones, too - like  _ clairvoyance,  _ so we’d know if something bad was coming and wouldn’t be caught unawares.” He chuckled. “It started off as protective stuff like that, but it grew into a whole thing, basically our own little mythology of magical powers. When Max was old enough to join in, he even made up a ‘heat’ rune, so he could - and I quote -  _ burn his homework.” _

“Smart kid,” Magnus said with a grin.

“He is,” Alec agreed, returning the smile even as he felt a pang of melancholy. He hadn’t seen Max in so long.

He cleared his throat and continued. “So, yeah - that’s where we got our pseudonyms from - everyone in our company uses rune names. Izzy’s  _ Stealth,  _ for example. She thought that one was particularly appropriate for a pseudonym.”

Magnus cocked his head curiously. “Which one did you pick, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Fearless.” He looked back down at the last of his coffee, a little self-conscious. “I don’t know. It was always my favorite, in the early days of using them to protect ourselves.”

Magnus’ expression shifted into a wide smile. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think it suits you perfectly.”

Alec swallowed. “Thanks,” he murmured, ignoring the now-familiar flare of heat. Dear god, that smile  _ did _ things to him, even without the accompanying compliment. 

He cleared his throat again. “So yes, we use pseudonyms. It feels… safer, you know? Maryse and Robert have forbidden Izzy and Jace to use the Lightwood name for anything related to the company, in any case - and for my part, I just want to keep well under their radar, if I can.” He gave a half-smile. “You’re a successful man, Magnus, with a world-renowned company. There’s every chance they’ve heard of you, and will hear about this collection. I don’t want to risk them recognizing my name, having an avenue to find me again for whatever reason. I just... can’t deal with them again. Not after everything that happened.”

He carefully set down his now-empty cup, blinking furiously. Dammit. Even after all this time, his history with his parents was a painful scar, the ghost of an open wound. And most days, it felt fragile enough that a reacquaintance with its cause could easily reopen it.

He looked back up, and Magnus nodded. “I understand,” he said gently. “As discussed, then, we’ll use a generic pseudonym for your design credit - you’re free to pick one, or our marketing team can do it for you if you’d prefer.” He smiled. “But even without your name on it, I hope you never forget that all of this was only possible thanks to you, Alexander.”

Alec easily returned his smile. “I won’t,” he promised. 

As if he could, in any case. For better or worse, he was pretty sure that every moment with Magnus would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life.

It was enough for him.

~*~

“I googled you,” Alec blurted out suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence they had settled into after wrapping up the work for the day.

They were sitting on Magnus’ couch, both barefoot and with their knees almost touching. Alec was eating a caramel pudding - the ones sold in the ‘shop’ part of a nearby bistro - while Magnus sipped at a steaming mug of green tea. The TV was on in the background, but they weren’t really paying much attention to the light-hearted rom-com that was currently playing.

“Oh?” Magnus’ lips twitched upwards. “And what exactly did you find out about me? My favorite color, perhaps?”

“Providing it’s still blue,” Alec said with a smile. “But I also watched a clip of the night you won your Oscar. Your acceptance speech.” Alec chuckled softly. “It’s funny, I saw it at the time, and obviously I didn’t know it was you, but I remember being pleased for you, and thinking you deserved it.  _ The Dragon Wars _ was absolutely my favorite nominee from that year. And you did such a good job, the costumes were amazing - it was no surprise that you won.”

“Why, Alexander,” Magnus said, seemingly delighted with the praise, “thank you. Though I must admit, despite how pleased I was with the costumes, you definitely had more faith in me than I did when it came to awards night.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t really expecting to win, since the other nominees were excellent. That war adaptation was very neat, very accurate in its costuming. Ah, and that movie set in the Victorian era -  _ Prince of Hell _ ?  _ Heir of Hell _ ? - that had such beautiful dresses, which are always a panel-pleaser.”

“Magnus, please,” Alec scoffed. “They were pretty, but nowhere near as original as your work. You didn’t even have a proper source to work from - no book to reference costume descriptions, no historical fashions to match, just your imagination.” He leaned forward, his hands moving animatedly. “Those dragon riders’ uniforms? The way they looked so unfamiliar, but so practical? They were the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. And the way you incorporated the practical effects, the lighting up and the transformations - it was like you’d used real magic. Like… Like you were all filming the story in a real fantasy realm.”

Magnus grinned widely at that, but there was softness in his eyes, too.

“Thank you.”

“Did you work closely with the cast? I mean, you must have been rubbing shoulders with some pretty big names throughout the process. Were they nice people?”

“Oh, the best. Especially Keira Knightley. She was a delight!” 

Alec’s jaw dropped and he totally forgot his pudding.

“ _ Fuck _ . You know Keira Knightley!” He turned completely, sitting even closer to Magnus as a result. “So, what was it  _ like?  _ The whole process of working on a movie like that? Tell me everything, please.”

And Magnus did.

He narrated all his adventures on set - the mishaps, the chaos, the moments where it all seemed to come together - and Alec listened intently, drinking it all in. Of course Magnus knew a lot of famous people, in his line of work, and he’d also traveled all over the world. Alec wanted to know everything. 

But not, he realized, about costume design or fashion. He wanted to know about  _ Magnus -  _ from the grandiose stories, the most significant moments, down to the small details of him, what made him tick day-to-day. 

Because he’d started to find some of those things out already. The way Magnus would scrunch his nose when he was truly focused on a task, the way his eyes would crinkle with joy when a sketch finally took shape, matching how he’d envisioned it. And the more Alec got to know the man behind his public and business persona, the more he  _ wanted  _ to know. Did he like different teas at different times of day? Did he like the snow, the rain? Did he prefer sunrises or sunsets? Would he be open to dating again?

And that last one was why this was a dangerous line of inquiry, of course. Because god, did Alec want to know the answer to that - but at the same time, it wasn’t a desire born out of any genuine hope. Magnus was worldly-wise, used to the good life by now, and perennially stunning. 

Alec was stumbling through life, sharing a tiny apartment with his siblings, and doing it all in ratty old sweaters and faded jeans. 

Still. In his most selfish moments, it was hard not to let his mind wander that way. However unrealistic it was. 

~*~

“You made an army of what?” Alec asked, trying to keep from laughing.

At some point - though he couldn’t quite pinpoint when - weekend evening had become a time for him to hang out with Magnus and Max at the loft. Alec would come to work a few hours beforehand, even when there wasn’t much more work to do, and once that was done he would just… spend time with the Banes.

Case in point, all three of them were currently huddled on Magnus’ comfortable couch, a woolen blanket draped over them and mugs full of hot chocolate and marshmallows either in their hands or on the coffee table.

“Zubats!” Max squealed in delight, holding his 3DS in front of Alec’s face, proudly displaying his  _ Ultra Moon  _ team that was, as he said, entirely composed of Zubats. He was, perhaps, a little young for the game, but apparently he’d seen Clary playing it just before her babysitting shift started and had been instantly enamored. “Tavvy said they are boring, but I went to the cave and catch  _ lots _ .”

“I can see that,” Alec agreed, grinning. “Why do you like them so much, hm?” 

“They are bats. They are blue. They are  _ perfect _ ,” Max said, whispering the last word with such awe that Alec could no longer hold back his chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad you have a whole team of your favorites, then,” he said. “You know, one time Jace tried to do the same thing with Pikachus _. _ He spent two whole days catching as many as possible.” Alec grinned at the memory. “He only got four, and it really annoyed him. He wanted a whole team like you have.”

Max frowned. “Poor him. Maybe he should have done three days instead.”

“Maybe,” Alec agreed, laughing all the more for the snort Magnus gave. “Another time, he took  _ my _ Pokémon game, and switched out my whole team so that it was all spider Pokémon, all Ariados and Joltik.”

Max gasped. “But you don’t like spiders!” he said indignantly. 

Alec shook his head, putting on a sad expression. “No. He did it to be mean.” Then, he leaned a little closer, and grinned. “I got him back though. He’s scared of ducks, so I went into his game and made his team all Psyducks. He was so mad at me.”

The evening drew on, and Alec started to tell more stories about his childhood - to Max, and then, when he went back to his game (trying to catch more Zubats, of course), to Magnus instead. Magnus, in return, told some stories about Max. 

He had just finished a babysitting anecdote about Clary when he shook his head, a slightly wondering smile on his face. “I can’t believe we had Biscuit as someone in common all this time and yet we’d never met before you came to look after Max. I mean, she talks a lot about Trace–”

“Jace,” Alec corrected, rolling his eyes fondly. 

Magnus ignored him. “–And yet she barely mentioned his handsome, talented big brother. It’s almost criminal.”

Alec felt his cheeks – and even his ears and neck – get warmer.

Magnus noticed, if the smirk on his face was anything to go by, but had the grace not to mention it, at least. “She told me once that she met Blondie at Comic Con - in Chicago, was it?” he asked instead.

Alec nodded. “Izzy and Jace always liked conventions, especially when we were teenagers. I would usually go with them, too, just to make sure they wouldn't get into any trouble. Then, after we established the company, going to those events became part of the job. You know, to get to know the market; what people wanted, what they didn’t have already.”

He sipped at his hot chocolate, a small smile on his lips.

“It was during this one in Chicago that we met Clary and Simon. I think Jace was pretty much smitten the second he saw Clary - and honestly, Simon was even worse, an absolute blathering mess the moment he met Izzy. We found out they were from New York, too, and after we got back they kept in touch. It didn’t take long for Clary and Jace to start dating, and then, when Simon heard about our gaming company, he asked to work with us. I told him we wouldn’t be able to pay him much, but he didn’t care.” Alec huffed in amusement. “Because of course he didn’t, so long as Izzy was there. A few weeks later, they were dating too.”

They were quiet for a while after that, the only sound being Max’s deep breathing, and the faint chirp of the abandoned console in his lap.

“What about you?” Magnus asked suddenly. “Don’t you have someone?”

Alec looked down at his hot chocolate, shaking his head.

“It never really came up, I guess,” he said with a shrug, his left hand worrying at the hem of his maybe-once-green sweater. “I mean, I spent most of my life in the closet, and when I was finally out, I just didn’t have time to worry about dates.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “I was pretty focused on just surviving, I guess.” He looked back up and met Magnus’ gaze again, trying to quell the sympathy he saw there with a small smile. “I’m fine, honestly. I’ve got a job I love - two, now - and a roof over my head, and Jace and Izzy are happy. It’s enough for me.”

“Alexander-” Magnus seemed to hesitate for a moment, gentling his voice. “That’s an admirable outlook, but if you want partnership - a person to call your own, to love and support you - you deserve it. You deserve that happiness too.”

Alec just shrugged again. “Maybe one day, but right now, I’m happy enough where I am,” he insisted - and it was true. Not only because of his siblings these days, either. This arrangement, this...  _ domesticity _ with Magnus and Max made him happy too.

It was like a long lucid dream. It was temporary, and he knew that, but maybe he could enjoy it for just a little longer before waking up.

At that moment, Max mumbled something, and both Magnus and Alec lowered their heads automatically to hear him better - which resulted in them almost bumping foreheads. Alec’s breath caught in his chest, a now-familiar hint of sandalwood filling his senses. For one long, glorious moment, he was mesmerized - by Magnus’ eyes, his lips, how  _ close  _ he was, how if Alec tilted his head just a little bit they could-

His phone vibrated and he jolted backwards in surprise, the spell broken as he fished it out of his pocket.

Magnus gave a small smile, clearing his throat. “You’d better check that. I’ll put Max to bed.”

Alec nodded mutely, resisting the urge to sigh as Magnus carefully bundled Max into his arms and headed for his bedroom. He unlocked his phone, groaning quietly as he read the messages there, both from his group chat with Maia and Lily. 

**From Maia – 9:17PM**

_ Pizza’s getting cold, Lightwood. Where the hell are you??? _

**From Lily – 9:18PM**

_ If you’re with your hot new boss, that’s okay. Invite him along too ;) _

_ Oh, fuck you very much,  _ Alec thought - albeit without any real heat. He dragged a hand down his tired face, sending a quick  _ on my way  _ message as he stood from the couch.

By the time Magnus returned, he’d already shrugged on his coat and was tying his shoes. “Are you leaving?” Magnus asked, his surprise tempered with…  _ disappointment,  _ almost. 

Alec nodded, ignoring the small pleased jump his heart gave at the idea that perhaps Magnus was going to  _ miss  _ him.  _ Get it together, idiot.  _ “Yeah, I’m sorry,” he said, giving a small, apologetic smile. “I totally forgot, I promised a couple of friends I’d be there for a movie night.” 

Magnus returned his smile, though he still seemed a little put out. “It’s fine. See you soon?” he asked, stepping forward to open the door - and ending up right in front of Alec again.

Alec swallowed. He considered saying how much he didn’t want to go, or reaching out for a hug goodbye, or hell, even taking Lily up on her offer and inviting him along, Max could always sleep in the next room-

His phone pinged again, and instead of any of that, he just nodded. “Yeah, see you soon. Goodnight.” And with that, he practically flew from the room, barely hearing Magnus’ response.

His heart was slamming inside his chest, not helped at all by the lingering scent of sandalwood knocked from his clothes as he stumbled down the stairs.

Screw the pizza, he just hoped that Maia and Lily had stocked up on ice-cream. He was really going to need it.

After all, what better food was there for being in _way_ too deep with someone you couldn’t have?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hear Paris next week?


	5. Blue - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo... First things first. I want to thank all of you, not only for your kind messages but also for your patience. I'm not 100% yet, but I'm getting there - at least, the most I can. Thank you again, y'all are the sweetest <3
> 
> Now, about the chapter. As you can see, it is very short. There is a reason, tho. The entirety of it got to the 10k mark. It's my longest one until now and many things happen. BUT, I ended up overwhelming my dear beta. It's a lot for her to review, and it wouldn't be fair to burden her with this monster. So, my solution was to split the chapter - and as you can see now there will be 9 chapters in total to accommodate everything. This chapter is shorter because I wanted to cut before the Paris scene. In the next one, there will be a lot of cuteness, more pining, protective!Alec, padlocks and uh... a... surprise. 
> 
> I'm sorry for this short update. Even so, I hope you will like it!

“You are so in deep for that boy, Magnus.”

It was one of those rare, peaceful nights when both Ragnor and Catarina were at Magnus’ loft and they could all just enjoy each other’s company without distractions. Due to the nature of their jobs – Magnus always focused on his designs, runways and photoshoots, Ragnor busy with numbers and contracts, managing both domestic and international endeavors of  _ Magnificent Fashion _ , and Catarina balancing shifts between the hospital she worked for and the orphanage she took care of – it was beyond difficult to find a time when all three of them were available for something as simple as a friendly get-together. Magnus had Max to look after, too, these days, going out was usually out of the question.

Now, however, it was way past Max’s bedtime and the toddler was sleeping deeply. Magnus was nursing his third glass of whiskey while Cat and Ragnor were more than satisfied with their second bottle of wine, judging by their easy smiles and tipsy laughter as they teased Magnus.

“This doesn’t change anything, Ragnor,” Magnus insisted. “We’re colleagues. I’m his  _ boss. _ I can’t exactly ask him on a date.”

“You can after the contract ends,” Catarina pointed out.

“Can I?” Magnus challenged. “Even once we’re no longer working together, it won’t change the fact that I’m much older than him. Also, I’m part of a package deal, these days. You really think a twenty-something would want to be a parent so soon?”

“Well, we already know that he practically raised his siblings,” Ragnor provided. “And he clearly adores Max. I don’t foresee that being a problem.”

“And we aren’t asking you to marry the guy,” Cat chimed in. “Go out, have a little fun. God knows you need it.”

Magnus huffed. “You two are impossible. I come up with perfectly valid excuses not to ask him out, and you steamroller all of them.”

“ _ Good,” _ Cat declared. “It’s beyond time for you to try and be happy, Magnus.”

“Don’t let that she-devil ruin any more than she already has,” Ragnor added, his gaze darkening a little at the mention of Camille. “Don’t let your best asset go to waste like that.” 

Magnus attempted a smile, well-aware that it didn’t reach his eyes but would have to be good enough. “My best asset?” he asked, letting his expression turn just a  _ touch  _ lascivious. “I presume you mean blessed beauty?” He gesticulated at himself with his usual flair, earning himself a  _ (mostly  _ amused) derisive snort from Ragnor.

“No,” Cat said, chuckling, even as her eyes turned a little softer. “I believe he’s referring to your  _ heart,  _ Magnus,” she explained. “Don’t close it away. It deserves better than that.”

Magnus cast his eyes down, staring unseeingly into his drink for a moment. Because he wanted that, wanted everything they were saying - the openness, the chance at connection. He really,  _ really _ wanted it. It was as if Alexander had unlocked something in him, almost.

But despite all his excuses being torn apart, the real question still remained - if he gave away the key to his heart, would Alec even accept that gift?

~*~

Magnus was deep in thought, unseeing eyes fixed on his computer screen as the white cursor blinked, hovering over the button that would confirm the purchase of his airplane tickets. He worried at his bottom lip, feeling a slightly foreign uncertainty - almost as if he were a teenager again, agonizing over the choice of movie for a first date and petrified of getting it wrong.

Or, more simply put, he was a mess.

Luckily, before he had much longer to dwell on that, there was a knock on his office door and Alec poked his head inside.

“Sophie said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Ah, yes.” Magnus turned his screen off and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Come in, Alexander.”

Alec did as he was told, but his movements seemed...  _ rigid, _ a certain tension clear in his body language as he took a seat.

“Have I done something wrong?” Alec asked quietly, frowning a little.

_ No, of course not, I doubt that you could ever do anything that would upset me in the slightest - _

Thankfully, Magnus successfully restrained that runaway train of thought, instead opting for a shake of his head and a soft smile.

“No, don’t worry yourself, darling. I actually just wanted to ask you something. About Paris.”

It was finally happening. All the clothes were done, ready to be shown to the world; his agenda for the entire week was set; even his personal wardrobe was already chosen, his suitcase all but formally packed.

“Oh.” Alec seemed to relax considerably, which was comforting. “Is it about Max? I know Clary is totally capable of babysitting him for a week, but I could… help, if you wanted?”

Magnus felt his heart flutter. Even with his contract about to end, and any obligation he felt to Magnus ending with it, Alexander still wanted to take care of Max.

“Thanks, but I was thinking about asking Catarina to take care of him,” he said - and then, before the brief look of disappointment in Alec’s eyes could blossom too far, he hastily added, “because I want you with me there.”

“What?” 

The look of utter shock in Alec’s face made it clear that further explanation was needed. “Usually, Raphael is the one who accompanies me to this type of event, but unfortunately for him-” (though  _ conveniently  _ was more like it, and he would bet half of his walk-in closet that Ragnor and Catarina were involved) “-he can’t make it this time. I need someone capable with me. Someone who’s participated in this project since its earliest stages, and could help me if any dire situation arises.” He smiles. “Someone I can rely on. I can think of no better candidate than your good self.”

Alec’s mouth worked for a moment. “I’m flattered,” he eventually said, slightly hesitant. “But Magnus, there’s a world of difference between the design work I did and the reality of the fashion industry. I wouldn’t want to end up embarrassing you.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Magnus chided. “Maybe you don’t have the specific experience - but between your artistic skills and your own proven business acumen, you’ve honestly got most of the knowledge by proxy. And please don’t worry about your anonymity - I’m confident that we can keep you safely tucked away on the sidelines. And if, by some unfortunate coincidence, you  _ do  _ end up under any kind of spotlight?” Magnus winked. “I think you’ll agree I have a certain talent for stealing them.”

Alec’s lips twitched into a smile, but he was still clearly worried.

“I don’t know… There is also  _ The Runes _ . My siblings and Simon know what they’re doing, but they’re not always…  _ practical.  _ If I leave them to manage things on their own for too long, they might end up pouring our resources into some weird, niche game. Like,  _ How to hunt ducks with a lightsaber while wearing 6-inch heels,  _ or something.”

Magnus chuckled heartily at the joke, even as he assuaged the genuine concern he could see underneath. “I see what you mean, but I maintain that they can survive without you for a week, Alexander. You can take some time for yourself. It’s not every day one gets an opportunity to see Paris, after all!”

“Magnus, you just said we’ll be going there to work,” Alec huffed with amusement.

“Sightseeing is part of the work, of course. We will be busy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t snatch you away for one or two hours to show you my favorite places,” Magnus insisted - before smiling at what he’d just realized.

They were already using “we”, and speaking as if it were a done deal.

“Is that a yes?” Magnus asked, trying not to sound  _ too  _ excited by the prospect.

Alec seemed to consider it for a moment longer - and then gave a small smile and a slow nod.

“Yes, Magnus. I’ll go with you.”

“Excellent!” And without missing a beat, Magnus turned his computer’s screen back on and clicked on the confirmation button.

Moments later, he was the proud owner of those plane tickets to Paris - including one for Alexander.

Magnus turned back to Alec, ready to declare a celebratory toast was in order - and then frowned, noticing the uneasiness that had crept back into Alec’s bearing, the way he was fiddling at the sleeve of his probably-maroon-bleached-copper sweater. “Alexander? Everything all right?”

Alec startled slightly, looking back up at Magnus with a slightly nervous smile. “I was just thinking – and you can say no, of course, it’s your prerogative – but… What if Max stayed with my siblings while we were away?” he suggested. “I know how busy Cat is, and a week’s a pretty big commitment for childcare. So maybe Clary could babysit him during the day, and then take him round to our place for both of them to stay the night there. That way, there’s always someone on hand if Clary has to take care of something, I know she gets busy in the evenings.” He snorted quietly. “Plus, you know, with me out of the picture, my parents might even let  _ my _ Max round for a visit. He’s still young, he loves superheroes and video games too. I’m sure he’d get on well with your Max.” His expression gentled, evening out into a less bitter kind of humor. “Not to mention, I’m sure Jace would love to show him the ropes of  _ Mystery Dungeon –  _ he was pretty much  _ obsessed  _ with it for a while _.  _ And Max’ll probably love it too; it has Zubats and everything.”

Magnus smiled widely, easily able to picture the scene. “Yes, I imagine that’ll sufficiently pique his interest,” he said. “Well, Alexander, I’ve never had reason not to trust you – so if you trust your siblings to take care of my son, I’m sure it’ll go swimmingly. Especially since he’s always less fussy spending the night with Clary, instead of Catarina, in any case.” He grinned. “And from what you’ve told me about Jace’s Pokémon ability, I’m sure Max’ll enjoy giving him a run for his money.”

Alec laughed, and Magnus felt something settle inside him at the sound. He’d meant what he said – he wasn’t worried about Max in this arrangement at all. He’d come to trust Alec’s judgement implicitly.

Maybe even more than his own. 

~*~

The day of their flight finally arrived, and Magnus hadn’t been this excited about a business trip in  _ years _ . Of course, that was likely because he’s never been on a business trip with  _ Alexander,  _ which promised to be a wildly different experience than taking his usual companion of Raphael or Ragnor.

Honestly, he needed to calm down a little. If he seemed as giddy as he felt, they might not even let him on the plane.

Thankfully, though, he wasn’t the only one excited about the upcoming week - far from being nervous about staying in a new place, Max had practically  _ shrieked  _ in delight when he’d heard that he and Clary would be having a long sleepover with Alec’s family. In fact, his only complaint so far was that Alec himself was going to  _ miss out.  _

The apartment where Alec lived with his siblings was - unsurprisingly - much smaller than Magnus’ loft. In fact, Magnus was almost positive that what he’d previously considered his modest en-suite was bigger than any of the bedrooms or even the kitchen in this place. It was very homely, though, warm and clean and obviously well-taken care of. The lack of clutter in the communal spaces, the focus on comfortable places to sit and ways to entertain oneself in the evenings, spoke to the unfussy, ‘eh-it’ll-do’ mentality that Alec likely shared with his siblings. It was a comforting place to be, and Magnus relaxed as Alec showed Max around, feeling ever more certain that he had made the right decision in taking Alec up on his offer.

He turned away from Alec and Max for a moment, smiling at Isabelle, who’d joined them for the grand tour. “Thank you for having Max,” he said, handing over a small case of luggage with his son’s clothes and toys inside. “If you have any problem and can’t reach me, you’ll also find the contact details of some of my friends in here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, giving a wide, genuine smile as she took the suitcase. “Honestly, what with how Alec always comes home from yours saying how  _ cute _ he is, how  _ smart  _ he is for his age and how  _ kind,  _ it sounds like we’ve been missing out.”

Magnus smiled back at her, knowing that he was probably wearing his ‘proud dad’ sappy glow right now but not particularly motivated to do anything about it. “Well, I appreciate it - and if there’s a favor I can do for you in return, please don’t hesitate to ask.” His eyes widened, an idea sparking. “Oh, I know - how about I help you find some new premises? Alec mentioned that you were looking for a more suitable office space, one that you could  _ buy  _ instead of renting, and I have a few good contacts in the local real estate market. As long as we weren’t  _ too _ ambitious with the location, I’m sure we could find you somewhere affordable without it being rickety, and with plenty of space for your equipment – maybe even  _ windows  _ for each of your offices,” he joked.

Izzy’s eyes lit up. “What about the playroom? Think we could find a place with space enough for that?”

“I don’t see why not,” Magnus said, even as he blinked, a little taken aback by the request. “I wasn’t aware you had a need for one, though.”

“Well, it’s something Alec’s been looking into as part of the bigger plan – he’s been making arrangements for one, even in our current space,” she explained, quickly nipping into the kitchen and taking out a catalogue from one of the drawers. “I’m surprised he hasn’t mentioned at least a few of the details to you yet, but then again, he did always like to be prepared as early on in the proceedings as possible.”

Magnus hummed in agreement, flicking through the catalogue, a little surprised at the sheer number of toys and games that were circled and annotated in Alec’s careful scrawl. “I can see that.”

“That’s not all,” Izzy said. “He’s been reaching out to local bookstores and art supply stores, seeing if we can make a deal with them – their customers get credit on our games, something like that, and in return we get books and art supplies suitable for young kids.”

“He’s a kind man,” Magnus murmured, tearing his eyes away from the catalogue and fixing Isabelle with a warm smile. “Forgive my distraction, it seems I’m just rather out of the loop. I suppose it is you I owe congratulations to, hmm? I would like to think Biscuit would have mentioned it, though of course, if not, that’s her business.”

“Her-?” Isabelle’s eyes widened, and she gave a quiet, shocked laugh. “No, no no no – I’m not –  _ expecting,  _ and neither’s Clary, as far as I know.”

“Oh, forgive me,” Magnus said. “A new hire, then? Someone coming into  _ The Runes  _ with childcare needs?”

“No,” Isabelle said slowly. “Huh. He really didn’t mention  _ anything  _ about this yet?” She chuckled ruefully. “Whoops. Cat’s out of the bag, I guess. Magnus, all of this is for  _ Max.” _

Magnus blinked. “…My Max?” he asked, intelligently.

“Yes, your Max,” Isabelle said, kindly not commenting on the stupidity of that question. “Alec’s been looking into providing a space for Clary to do her babysitting at our company, so that she has somewhere more convenient to entertain him when your building’s closed – somewhere reliable, and familiar, and safe, without Clary having to trudge all the way back uptown to her own apartment.” Her grin widened. “Honestly, though, for all he says that’s the reason, I think it’s less to do with Clary’s convenience and more to do with what  _ he  _ wants,” she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Alec adores Max, and I think this is his way of trying to stay helpful to you two, even when the contract ends.”

Magnus’ mouth worked for a moment as he tried to come up with a response to that. “…Oh,” he finally settled on, his eyes drifting back over to Alec’s open bedroom door, where the man himself was showing Max where he’d be sleeping.

As he looked on, Max started laughing, and Alec grinned – and suddenly, the last knots of doubt in Magnus’ chest eased, soothing out into a warm, easy certainty. If Alec was making this kind of preparation, wanted to make this kind of offer, that was a definite sign that Magnus had been reading at least  _ something  _ of their dynamic right. Alec wasn’t just being polite, or diplomatic – he  _ wanted  _ the two of them around, he must have  _ wanted  _ to keep that connection in some way.

Maybe even, if Magnus was lucky, in the exact same way he wanted it.

Well, that settled it, then, Magnus thought. Much as he hated to prove Ragnor and Catarina right after they’d been stubborn, he wasn’t about to ignore this particular sign from the universe.

As soon as Fashion Week ended and the contract was up, he was going to ask Alexander Lightwood on a date. 


	6. Blue - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also knowing as "How many Malec references from the show and the books (especially TRSOM) can you get it?"
> 
> And because I'm a sap, the song I listened non-stop to write the dance scene is this beautiful cover of [Carpenters' Close to You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1t_VuH-Skac)
> 
> Warning for too much fluff. Really, protect your teeth, please.

The flight to Paris was one of the most pleasant Magnus had ever experienced. Like many of his brief moments with Alec – having lunch or dinner together, going to a coffee shop, walking aimlessly through Central Park, breaks between the sketches – they shared stories or stayed in a comfortable, blissful silence, just enjoying each other’s company. They talked, laughed, teased. Magnus even flirted a little bit – and by the way an adorable shade of red ghosted across Alec’s pale skin, it seemed to be well-received. 

It didn’t feel like long before they could see land out of the window once more, lurking beneath the cloud cover.

“Uh, Magnus?” Alec asked, finally dragging his gaze away from the window. “Where is everyone else? I saw them preparing for the trip last week. Cordelia was beside herself making sure everything was perfect, Tessa was going through every detail again, even Will was behaving for once while Jem helped him with the last wardrobe check. And I’ve just realized that we haven’t seen them all day.”

Magnus hummed in acknowledgment, even as he continued mindlessly flipping the pages of a magazine. “They are already here. My show staff always travel first, so they can make the necessary arrangements and rest for a day or two before the show kicks off. Hopefully, it means that they don’t feel too overwhelmed jumping straight in with minimal prep time, and it also gives them a chance to get over the jet lag.”

When silence fell over them and Alec didn’t comment further, Magnus finally glanced up and found him looking intently at him, as if searching for something. Magnus blinked a couple of times, feeling somewhat exposed.

“Something wrong?”

“What about you? You could have come earlier too, but chose today, when the event will begin. You won’t have time to rest, Magnus.” Alec’s voice was so soft and concerned that Magnus had to pause for a moment to process his words, caught up as he was in that lovely lilt, painfully swallowing the returning swell of emotion.

It was true that he was tired with all the extra work and last-minute adjustments, but it was a routine so familiar for him, he’d actually never put much thought into it before.

A moment later, however, he managed to pull himself together, his oft-used deflection skills on the tip of his tongue. “Well, in this field, there’s something to be said for being _fashionably_ late,” he said with a grin.

Alec snorted, but dropped the issue and went back to staring out of the window. Magnus slumped back in his seat, letting out a deep breath. Although it was true that Magnus usually was the last one from his staff to arrive at an event, this time his delay had been more… _personally_ motivated – he’d wanted to spend more alone time with Alec, able to talk in his office without someone interrupting them all the time. The last two weeks had been crazy with all the last-minute details needing to be settled, and Magnus could count on one hand how many _hours_ he had seen Alec during that time - which was unacceptable, of course.

He remained happy with his decision, too. Sleep was an easy sacrifice to make if it meant spending more time with Alexander.

~*~

They were staying at a luxurious hotel near the main venue for the week’s events - in _different_ rooms, despite Ragnor’s joke that this would have been a perfect opportunity to take advantage of a potential _only one bed_ situation. (Not that Magnus hadn’t been… _tempted,_ of course. But it would only make Alec uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to destroy whatever it was blossoming between them.)

From the minute they got to the hotel, it was time to focus up. It was opening night, so he had to take a shower, dress to impress, and then spend hours with fellow workers, models and the media.

There was a time, years ago, when he would have thrived at a party like that. Now, honestly, he dreaded a bit. Especially the paparazzis. He could definitely live without them.

Since it was a social event and not design work, Alec wasn’t going, so Magnus was all by himself. Still, that was no excuse to look anything less than his best, and so he’d pulled out all the stops – a paisley-printed blazer, silver-trimmed pinstripe trousers flanked by his long scarf, and a royal blue coat studded seams. He topped it all off with midnight blue kohl, silver eyeshadow, and subtle plum lip gloss. He considered putting on his splint, but eventually dismissed the idea. As long as he was careful, he should be able to manage a few hours without it. 

A knock on his door drew his attention from the mirror, and he went to open it, feeling pleasantly surprised when he saw Alec behind it. He hadn’t expected to see him until the next day.

“Alexander, come in,” he invited, gesturing inside. Only when Alec passed beside him did Magnus notice the bag he was holding.

Alec looked him over briefly, a warm flutter coming to Magnus’ chest as his clear approval sparked a small smile. “I just wanted to give you this. Before you head out,” Alec said, offering the small bag.

Magnus blinked, unreasonably baffled. A gift?

He smiled, pulling himself together. “What do we have here?” he asked, carefully opening the bag and peering inside - stunned all over again when he realized what he was looking at. “Oh,” he breathed. 

Inside the bag was a set of three different splints, each one more dazzling than the last. One was made with a beautiful navy silk, embellished with diamond-like jewels, forming spidery, sparkling lines down each metacarpal; another was a dark, lustrous red, embroidered with swirls of shimmering golden thread; and the last one was an unapologetic, almost lurid shade of hot pink, softened with a pale peach, vintage-looking rose pattern.

“I remember you saying that you never wear splints to things like this, because even the black ones are kind of… obtrusive-looking,” Alexander explained. “But I wanted to give you a middle ground between your usual splints and not wearing them at all. They’ve not got the same flexibility you need from your medical-grade ones, unfortunately, but as long as you don’t have to do anything too intricate they should still be comfortable, and give you way more support than going bare-handed. And with the different designs, hopefully that gives you some room to work with them stylistically.”

Thankfully, at that point, Magnus found his voice again – awed and quiet as it was. “You _made_ these?”

“Yeah, I asked Raphael to let me use one of the sewing machines. He didn’t like it very much, but he agreed when I told him it was for you.” Alec laughed quietly, one hand coming up to the back of his neck. “And no pressure, of course. I mean, I don’t know if they’ll work for you, and I won’t be offended if-“

“Alexander,” Magnus interrupted him, clearing his throat, his expression shifting into a helpless, beaming smile. “They’re beautiful. I can’t wait to try them; in fact, this blue pair should be _perfect_ for tonight–”

He prattled on a little as he fixed them into place, smiling even wider as he admired the effect, the way the silver and blue glinted in the light.

Magnus looked back up at the man responsible, feeling himself melt at just how sweet, how _thoughtful_ this was of him.

God. Just when he’d thought he couldn’t fall any deeper. 

~*~

Magnus loved his job in all of the expected ways. He loved the blossoming of each new creation; the magic of clothes perfectly tailored to bring a new story to the body; the thrill of a runway, of receiving adulation or hushed whispers as each new idea was revealed; the flashing lights and buzz of attention, the praise or disbelief or frankly _any_ reaction that wasn’t boredom.

He also loved it in a lot of quieter, simpler ways. Seeing his team coming together to do their best, and then glowing with pride when the stress gave way to a job well done. Knowing that he was _building_ something – a business, a safety net, a glowing reputation; all of which would serve to give Max a strong foundation one day, to give him the means and security to take risks and follow his own passions, hopefully without ever living paycheck-to-paycheck the way Magnus had started out.

And finally, Alec had joined that list, his company another boon throughout the design process, as well as at today’s event – even if he did tend to hide in the shadows somewhat, stepping out to join Magnus every now and then but more than happy to let him take the brunt of the attention.

So yes, Magnus loved his job.

But that didn’t mean he loved _every_ aspect, and one of the things he didn’t love was having to deal with Shinyun Jung.

When they’d met, years ago, at an event she was hosting in Seoul, Magnus hadn’t taken any special notice of her. She was just another CEO of yet another rival company; albeit one with a disagreeable sort of arrogance.

But that all changed after Magnus lost out on a big investment, one that he’d thought he had in the bag. Ragnor had done his usual digging - and he’d found out that Asmodeus was now one of Shinyun’s closest advisors, wielding his power and influence with whichever bigwigs he could to direct money and attention to her company. Taking the deal away from his disowned son was likely just a nice bonus, Magnus thought bitterly.

He’d shifted his avenues of investment after that incident, not interested in establishing a continuing competition with Ms. Jung. The longer he could stay out of his father’s way, the better. The last thing he needed was that bastard getting under his skin again.

Still, that didn’t mean they miraculously now ran in different circles all the time. At events like this, it was pretty much inevitable that she’d make her presence known; his father’s resentment apparently having leaked into her psyche enough that she would seek him out to try and rile him, rather than just avoiding him as he did her.

This week was quickly becoming particularly bad, and Magnus could tell that even Alec was starting to bristle at her persistence.

Which is why Magnus wasn’t even that surprised when Alec reached his limit.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” he finally demanded, turning away from where he’d been helping Magnus remove his splints. He sounded beyond irritated, the frustration that had built over the course of the day (and _far_ too many unpleasant encounters) clear in his tone, in the deep set of his disapproving frown. Apparently, now that they were away from the cameras, he wasn’t willing to put up with her antics anymore.

“Well, that’s very rude,” Shinyun said, her infuriatingly blank face furrowing the barest amount as she looked Alec up and down. “Maybe I _will_ go. I’ve tried to be polite, but I don’t need your negative energy around me.” She looked past him, gazing at Magnus’ now-bare hands, and he resisted the urge to hide them away in his pockets. “Though it’s a shame, as my curiosity is not yet sated. I still want to know how you managed to create a collection of _any_ kind, given your… _tragic_ disadvantage, these days.”

Magnus’ mouth twitched halfway into a snarl at the false pity, a cutting remark on the tip of his tongue – but Alexander beat him to it, stepping sideways until he was blocking Magnus from Shinyun’s view. “That’s enough,” he said coldly. “We’ve indulged you all day, Ms. Jung. It’s high time that you left.”

“You _are_ a devoted little lap dog, aren’t you? Don’t you ever quit?”

Alec’s frame seemed to grow another few inches as he drew himself up. He must have been towering over Shinyun by this point. “I don’t,” he said quietly. “And I suggest you leave before you have to find that out firsthand.”

There was silence for a few moments – and then Shinyun stepped away, coming back into Magnus’ eyeline. “Such loyalty,” she said, her expressionless face giving a creepy twitch as she met Magnus’ eyes again. “Still, Magnus, next time I hope you’ll control your pet." Then, she – finally, thankfully – swept away.

The tension in the air snapped like a twig, Magnus taking a deep, calming breath as Alexander sagged in clear relief.

Once he felt a little more under control, Magnus reached out, unfolding Alec’s arms and taking one of his large hands gently between both of his own. “What do you say to a stroll under the beautiful lights of the city, and then a dessert to brighten our night?” he suggested, finding a small smile – which was increasingly easy in Alec’s company, however pissed off they both were. “I know this little café that sells the _best_ gelato with hot fudge, truly unmissable in my opinion.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “I thought you had an after-party to get to? That one where they don’t let the press in, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but I’m sure they’ll survive without me,” Magnus said, grinning. “Besides, Jem and Will are planning on attending, and I’m sure they’ll be _delighted_ for me to relieve Tessa of press duty for the night so she can go in my place.”

Alec snorted. “You’re not wrong there,” he muttered, a smile gracing his own expression. The budding throuple within the bounds of _Magnificent Fashion_ was easily the company’s worst-kept secret, and Magnus delighted in making certain… _arrangements,_ allowing the three to spend more time together. Sue him, he was a romantic.

A fact which Alec had clearly cottoned on to, as he looked suspiciously at Magnus. “Why do I get the feeling this isn’t the only one of your little ploys you have in store for those three?”

Magnus shrugged nonchalantly. “I can’t think what you mean, Alexander. Their strategy meeting the day after tomorrow had to happen _somewhere._ And it’s Paris; try finding a decent restaurant that’s _not_ on _Saison_ ’s ‘Most Romantic’ list.”

Alec laughed, and Magnus couldn't help but think _Ah, there you are_ upon seeing his joyful expression. Magnus idly wondered if the warm, buzzing feeling in his chest would work like magic on his fingertips and melt his gelato with just one touch. 

~*~

With their (as always, delicious) dessert finished and the evening drawing in, Magnus suggested that they take a slightly more out-of-the-way, discreet approach to sightseeing. “The big sights like the Eiffel are wonderful, of course,” he said, “and no doubt we’ll see a couple along the way. But if you like, I can show you some of the hidden gems – things I didn’t find until my fourth or fifth visit.”

Alec eagerly agreed; and so Magnus led the way, guiding him through antique collection houses and tiny coffee shops that played live baroque music and parks that were too small to attract tourists, so were instead filled with the peace and quiet of evening dog-walkers and elderly locals watching the sunset.

Eventually, they came to Magnus’ personal favorite, and their last stop before returning to their hotel – a small, out-of-the-way neighborhood, bustling with early nightlife under colorful lanterns and streetlights, the sidewalks absolutely _packed_ with street artists plying their trade as biro caricaturists or spray paint virtuosos or animal portrait artists.

That last one was where Alec ducked around the corner for a moment, re-emerging with a tiny canvas and presenting it to Magnus. “It reminded me of you,” he explained.

Magnus gazed down at the simple piece, which depicted a small, vaguely cartoonish kitten playing with a ball of blue flame as though it was yarn. “Thank you, Alexander,” he said softly, his expression shifting into a wide, affectionate smile.

Honestly. If Alec kept surprising him like this, Magnus’ heart wasn’t going to survive this trip.

The walk back to their hotel took them past the Pont des Arts, and they stopped for a minute to admire the glint of the padlocks on the purpose-built structure next to the bridge itself. “Couples used to put locks on the bridge,” Magnus said, gesturing at the railings. “But it started to affect the structure, all that cumulative weight. So they provided this alternative.”

He reached out and gently brushed against one of the padlocks – a round, bronze one, etched with an inscription in a language he didn’t recognize. There was a strange sort of longing, being here – a wistfulness that bordered on lonely. He’d rarely lacked companionship in his life – his high school years had been filled with the stereotypical make-out sessions of teen movies, and in his twenties, he’d gained something of a reputation as a lothario, happy to flirt and date freely and always up for a good time or a night of no-strings-attached fun.

And in the midst of all that, he’d even been in love a few notable times, had worn his heart on his sleeve easily enough that their names and stories were branded upon it – Etta, Imasu… Camille, despite how hindsight had soured that particular tale.

But even those had seemed… _incomplete,_ somehow. And perhaps it was just the benefit of hindsight, the opposite of rose-colored spectacles that highlighted the flaws in those relationships, why they’d gone (often spectacularly) wrong.

Still. He couldn’t help but feel that no one had felt like _this,_ like the demonstrations of eternal love before him, permanent and brazen and secure.

Catarina had called his heart a wanderer, once. And after so many years on a bumpy road, perhaps it was no wonder that it was tiring.

“Magnus?” Alec’s voice cut through the fog of memory and melancholy, drawing his attention once more – and holding it, a hook in his gut at the furrow of concern on Alec’s brow, a looping gravity sparked within Magnus by the brightness of his eyes.

He lifted a hand unthinkingly, cupping Alec’s jaw before he fully realized what he was doing – and then, once he _did,_ unwilling to let go all the same.

That was okay, he reasoned with himself. If not for the reverence beating in his breast, it could easily be a friendly gesture. He was a tactile person.

Alec smiled, his eyes flicking over to the locks even as a slight color crept over the tops of his cheekbones. “You seemed pretty lost in thought. Do you have one up there?”

Magnus sighed, dropping his hand. “No,” he admitted. “Not sure I’ve ever had that kind of connection with someone.” He looked over at the locks, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “It must be nice.”

“Yeah,” Alec murmured. “I mean, _eternal love_ is a fairly tricky concept, depending on your beliefs. But having someone that you’re so sure about, that if there is an eternity, you want them for all of it, to share your heart with them for as long as you exist…” He shrugged. “Well, given that they wound up here, declaring themselves this way, I’m guessing these people know how lucky they are.”

“I imagine so,” Magnus said softly before rousing himself. “Well, we ought to keep moving,” he said cheerfully. “It’s getting late. Let’s leave these people to their luck of love, and look for a photo booth. One doesn't simply go to another country without taking silly photos, Alexander.”

Alec chuckled. “Lead the way, Mr. Bane. _”_

~*~

Four days into the event and Magnus was already glowing with pride. All of his creations thus far had generated a good response and a few deals were already being made. Every night, no matter how exhausted Magnus felt, he would always make the time to send Ragnor a (usually _long)_ email, briefing him on all of the initial negotiations so that he could continue them at Magnus’ side later. 

The night before had been Magnus’ opportunity to showcase a set of his best – and most challenging – creations, an intricate collection of finely-tailored menswear, the sweeping hemlines of which had given everyone involved a few sleepless nights as they tried to strike a balance between the flow of the design and a certain rigidity the structural shapes needed. 

Alec’s help hadn’t been cheap, even by Magnus’ standards. But seeing the designs come alive on the runway - not to mention Alec’s small, proud smile as he watched from the wings - it felt like it had been worth every penny.

But after the high-stakes anticipation of the night before, the following day was more relaxed – even _fun._ Magnus used the opportunity of their free morning to take Alec on another sightseeing trip; this time, booking a private carriage ride which took them past more monuments and beautiful examples of architecture than they could count. They followed that up with brunch at a place close to the Eiffel, which served some of the biggest, most reasonably priced, and - Magnus was adamant - most _delicious_ crepes in Paris. Alec’s sweet tooth came into play, and Magnus was pleased to see him indulge it - even if he was a little worried about the possibility of a food coma interfering with their afternoon plans.

Ah well. Magnus couldn’t help being a sap, after all, and every genuine smile Alec gifted him - especially when the most unafraid sparrows hopped close, taking the plain bits of crepe offered right from their fingertips - made the future seem less and less important, compared to the sheer magic of _now._

That afternoon, _Magnificent Fashion_ presented an extra-special collection, taking full advantage of the photoshoot and open runway happening at the _Place du Perle._ It was an entry that they’d had a lot of fun creating, and was close to Magnus’ heart - plus, naturally, it had led to one of the best weeks he and Alec had shared while working together, and Magnus could feel his lips curving up into an involuntary smile even just thinking about it now. 

Each outfit from the collection represented a different queer flag, from the muted, subtle hues of linen that still unmistakably made up the very first example of the rainbow flag, to the bright, sharp purple that contrasted with shining black satin to represent the asexual flag. Each model had been carefully selected, too - not only for Magnus’ usual insistence on including people with a variety of skin tones and body types, but also so that each outfit was worn by someone who identified as what that flag represented - an aromantic woman to show off the elegant green and grey of that day dress, a nonbinary model to wear the striking yellow tunic under a black capelet edged with lavender lace, and so on. 

The songs that accompanied that particular show were upbeat and joyful, and Magnus couldn’t resist dancing his way onstage to thank the audience, his own bisexual flag held high and proud before draping around his shoulders as he stood at the mic. 

His eyes scanned the crowd as he spoke, his heart swelling to see so many people with their own pride symbolism on display - and his gaze, as usual these days, found Alec once more, and he grinned. _Look at all this joy we’re a part of, Alexander. No shame, no fear, and none of us alone._

That evening, when he and his team – including Alec – attended a private party at a castle on the outskirts of Paris, Magnus was still on cloud nine, and was determined to make the most of this feeling. He doubted that even Shinyun could ruin his mood after such a marvelous day.

Magnus made it a point to make his way around a variety of dance partners, and as the night progressed, he managed to dance with almost everyone from his team - not to mention a few strangers.

But unfortunately, the person he _most_ wanted to dance with always seemed to keep to one corner or another of the massive hall, quiet and a little out of place. Magnus’ good mood deflated, just a little, as worry needled at his heart. Was Alec uncomfortable? Sad?

Worrying at his lower lip as he tried to come up with the best way to approach Alec proved enough for his distraction to be noticed by Tessa, who glanced briefly over her shoulder - and then shook her head fondly at Magnus, her laughter echoing between the two of them as they danced.

“Magnus, why don’t you go ask him for a dance? I’m sure he wouldn’t refuse.”

Magnus shrugged. “I don’t know if he would want to, and I wouldn’t want him to feel obligated. There are a lot of people here.” His gaze wandered around, and he frowned a little as he found Shinyun once more. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “And _one_ person in particular who I wouldn’t want to give an opening. She’s made Alexander feel bad enough.”

“We can distract her,” Will chimed in, smirking. He was dancing next to them, his hands low and gentle on Jem’s back. “I could always _accidentally_ spill red wine on her dress.”

“No!” “Will!” Jem and Tessa chastised him - albeit without any real heat. Tessa was even trying to contain a smile.

Magnus winked. “I knew there was a reason I loved you, William.” He turned back to face Alexander - only to see that he wasn’t there anymore. Before he could feel the full weight of his disappointment, however, Jem tapped his shoulder, reclaiming his attention.

“He went through that corridor,” Jem said, nodding towards a narrow corridor not far from where Alec had been standing last. “I think it leads to the garden-side balconies on the second floor.”

“Is that so?” Magnus asked, trying not to seem _too_ excited at having a new lead on Alec’s whereabouts. “Sorry Will. It would seem that Jem’s my new favorite.”

“You wound me,” Will gasped in mock offense - then dropping the act with a smirk, and grabbing both Tessa’s and Jem’s hands. “Come on, we have some dresses to destroy.”

“Hearing a model saying that is a bit concerning,” Tessa pointed out. 

“Oh, shush.”

Magnus observed them for a moment longer with a warm, fond smile - and then turned away, heading for the corridor that would lead him back to Alec.

After passing a few empty rooms, Magnus finally found the one where Alec was hiding. He was leaning against the balcony rail, his head tilted up towards the starry night. From this part of the building, there was also a view of the beautiful lake in the center of the garden, reflecting and scattering the moonlight.

Magnus cleared his throat to announce his presence and not startle Alec, before moving to stand next to him. “Bored of the party?” he asked lightly.

Alec shook his head, but gave Magnus a half-smile. “No, it’s just… too much, I think. I’m not used to this kind of event anymore. Sometimes I was forced to attend some fancy dinners with my parents, but parties and everything else is more my siblings’ thing.”

Magnus hummed, understanding.

“If you want to leave, I can take you back to the hotel.”

Alec shook his head, still staring at the dark sky, wide enough to be speckled with stars despite the brightness of the city below. “I just need a few minutes. I’m still eager to try that famous le… le, uh…” Alec scrunched his nose, trying to remember the words.

“ _Ile flottante?”_ Magnus suggested, grinning when Alec nodded. “Well, I can understand that. It’s one of my personal favorites.” 

The two of them looked back out at the garden and the sky for a moment, and Magnus felt his smile falter as anxiety twisted his stomach. He _really_ wanted to ask Alexander to dance, like Tessa had suggested. But would it be too forward? 

He glanced over at his companion once more - and as his breath caught, because _fuck,_ the silvery moonlight made Alexander look positively _angelic,_ a small, sure voice seemed to sound in his head.

_You can do this, Magnus Bane._

Taking a deep breath, he turned to Alec and held out a hand, letting his smile grow back to its original warmth and brightness. Alec seemed to catch the movement, and also turned to Magnus, his eyebrows knitting together in apparent confusion.

Still, Magnus refused to chicken out now. “May I have this dance, Mr. Lightwood?” he asked softly. 

Alec blinked. “Here?”

Magnus nodded, twitching his hand in a small beckoning motion. Even from here, it was still possible to hear the songs from the party. They were a bit muffled, of course, but the general beat, the overall ebb and flow - those were audible enough. And as far as Magnus could tell, it was a rather slow, romantic song playing right now. Rather perfect for a moonlit balcony in Paris, he mused. 

They held each other’s gaze for another moment - and then Alec nodded, a small smile gracing his features as he stepped forward and laced their fingers together.

Magnus felt himself light up, his heart somersaulting in his chest - and without further ado, he moved even closer, settling his right hand on Alec’s lower back and feeling Alec’s left rest gently between his shoulder blades. 

They started to move - very slowly, and never averting their gazes, which was perfect. Suddenly, it no longer mattered how beautiful the view from the balcony was, because Magnus didn’t want to see anything but Alec’s eyes, his lightly flushed cheeks, his soft smile.

Throughout the dance, they somehow moved impossibly closer, until they were practically chest-to-chest, and in a sudden thrill of bravery Magnus tilted his head forward a little, their foreheads resting together - and Alec, in response, not pulling away or giving a nervous laugh, but simply sighing out a breath that brushed against Magnus’ lips, closing his eyes in seeming contentment.

Time blurred from one song to the next, and the next, and the next - and they didn’t say a word, just listened, just moved and danced and smiled, warm wherever they touched.

And everything was quiet but for the soft music and their breathing, and still but for their gentle swaying, and sweet but for the salt of city air. It was like nothing else in the world mattered - only the two of them.

A fanciful thought, perhaps - but at that moment, it seemed like nothing but truth.

~*~

“Don’t even think about it.” Alec narrowed his eyes.

Unfortunately for him, that only made Magnus grin even wider - and then dart forward, looping the scarf around his neck before any further protests could be made.

“But darling, this color is exquisite on you,” Magnus purred, adjusting the cobalt cashmere to sit _just so_ and then stepping back to admire the overall effect, humming in appreciation. “Are you sure you won’t consider a modeling career? I guarantee you’d be _very_ successful.”

It was Will who’d unknowingly inspired this game of dress-up. When he’d strode down the runway that evening, the flash of a camera had caught him as he turned, momentarily washing out his tanned skin and brightening his deep blue eyes – and Magnus had thought, _oh._

After that, the idea of Alec wearing his fashions had refused to leave Magnus alone – and being as it was a welcome distraction from his now-annoyingly-frequent dreams about… _less-_ clothed situations, he’d decided to run with it. Once the day was done he’d pulled Alec over into a private corner backstage, his other arm carrying a bundle of newly-announced men’s fashion. _Indulge me a moment?_ he'd asked.

And Alec, being a sweetheart, had warily obliged.

Which was why he was now dressed from top to toe in some of their finest work – dark pants, the slightly wider cut toned down by the matte fabric. A wrap-around white blouse, tied with ribbon at the hip but kept more traditionally masculine by the sharp, professional collar. And, of course, the scarf, which added softness and warmth to an otherwise severe look – and also had the benefit of being just a few shades deeper than Alec’s eyes, making them brighten and sparkle in an almost-otherworldly way.

Perhaps Alec’s exasperated smile should have ruined the effect, but unsurprisingly, Magnus found it all the more charming. “You’re ridiculous,” Alec declared softly.

Magnus laughed, also keeping his voice low. “I never claimed otherwise, Alexander. But that doesn’t change the fact that you look wonderful.”

As if confirming it to himself, he looked Alec up and down for a moment… only then realizing how close they were still standing.

Magnus swallowed, his heart giving a now-familiar flutter. Suddenly, with their body heat seeming to warm the scant air between them and the faint sound of Alexander’s breathing, he was so close, it almost seemed ridiculous to wait until the end of the week. And he could move slowly, give Alec ample time to pull away as he tilted his head, leaning in until...

Movement at the corner of his vision drew his eye, and he sighed in annoyance and stepped away. He might have been grateful for being snapped out of it, if it weren’t for just _who_ had caught his attention. “Shinyun, you do realize that these voyeuristic tendencies of yours can’t be healthy?”

Alec reappeared at his side, sounding about as annoyed as Magnus felt. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to congratulate you on your continued luck on the runway,” she said evenly. Too evenly, actually, and Magnus was pretty sure she blinked about half as much as a regular person, as well. Sometimes, when he gave in to flights of fancy, he was halfway-convinced that she was actually a robot that Asmodeus had designed to torment him. “Apparently, you’ve somehow managed to impress the critics again. One can’t help but wonder how you’ve pulled it off.”

Her eyes flicked over to stare coldly at Alec, and Magnus fought the urge to stand in front of him, as though her gaze could do him actual harm. “You know, no one’s been able to track down the design assistant you credited for this collection. Rumors are flying that it’s a pseudonym. I don’t suppose your toy boy here would know anything about that, would he?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Magnus snarled, “and I’ll thank you not to disrespect my friends and employees.”

He knew a moment later that he’d gone on the defensive too quickly, because Shinyun looked back at him, her eyes glinting as she gave a slow nod. “Well. I guess I have my answer. And I think we both know someone who’ll find this development… interesting.”

Magnus glared at her, trying and failing to ignore the lead that was suddenly lining his stomach. “You tell him that if he comes near me or my family–”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Shinyun interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “Surely even you know better, by now?” Her eyes flicked to Alec once more, and if that woman knew how to smile, probably it would be as creepy as the vibe she emanated. “There are far more elegant ways for him to get what he wants.” 

A moment later, she turned on her heel and was gone.

And Magnus was left standing there, almost shaking, unsure whether he wanted to break things or simply throw up. For fuck’s sake, he’d sworn he was _done_ with this, with letting Asmodeus get to him, and now here he was, in an abysmal state at the barest _mention_ of the man-

And then he was being turned, and a strong, warm pair of arms came around him.

Magnus froze for a moment – and then melted instinctively, his head ducking down to hide in the crook of Alec’s neck and his own arms coming up to return the embrace. Alec didn’t say anything, just held him, and Magnus breathed deeply, letting the spike of adrenaline fade.

Maybe he was a hopeless cause, and his father would always make him feel vulnerable.

But right now, it didn’t seem to matter. Because vulnerable or not, he was safe. 

~*~

Magnus hurried along the hallway, smiling when he spotted Alec just outside his room. “Alexander!” he called. “Good, I was hoping to catch you before your flight.”

Alec returned his smile, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder. “I was actually on my way to your room to say goodbye. I wasn’t gonna just disappear on you,” he joked.

Magnus felt his expression soften. “Good,” he murmured, and then he cleared his throat. “I was hoping that you might come round for dinner once we’re both back in New York? I did try to make a reservation for somewhere _besides_ the loft, but alas, it would seem that everywhere decent is booked up for a while,” he huffed. “Still, that doesn’t mean we can’t have a lovely night. After this week’s been so hectic, I’d say we’ve earned it.”

“There’s certainly reason to celebrate,” Alec agreed with a small grin. “Yeah, that sounds great. When were you thinking?”

“How about Friday, at seven?” Magnus suggested. “It’s Tavvy’s birthday, so Max is sleeping over that night.”

Alec grinned. “He’s got quite a social life for his age,” he finished, his eyes widening. “Oh. Friday?”

“Friday,” Magnus confirmed with a small smile. Friday – four days away. Which made it _five_ days after the last day of the contract. Meaning that this would be one-hundred percent a social call; and from Alexander’s face, it seemed that he’d just realized that.

Thankfully, before Magnus could get too nervous about the lengthy pause, Alec smiled again – wide and open and brighter than the sun. “I’d love to,” he said softly. “It’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” Magnus repeated, his stomach doing somersaults because it _was,_ and Alexander had said _yes,_ wonder of wonders.

A clock in the distance chimed, and they startled. “You’d better get going,” Magnus pointed out. “Have a safe flight.”

“Thanks.” Alec swung on the other strap of his rucksack and took hold of his suitcase, his eyes still shining with beautiful, obvious joy that matched Magnus’ own. “Good luck finalizing the contracts. I’ll see you Friday.”

He left, striding down the corridor with a spring in his step.

Magnus turned away – and then abruptly remembered that he didn’t have to, not anymore. So instead, he watched him leave. 

~*~

The next few days were a whirlwind. He spent another day and a half in Paris, finalizing contracts with European distributors and making arrangements with Fashion Week-exclusive investors. Then, it was home to his loft, where Clary and Max were waiting for him, and _damn,_ he always forgot how nice it was to see his son after being away for a while. He spent the whole of Tuesday evening fighting through his jetlag in order to listen to Max’s excited ramblings, a steadfast happiness growing at the knowledge that his son had clearly had a great time with Alec’s family.

Wednesday and Thursday were filled with post-Fashion Week interviews, contract renewals and adjustments this side of the pond, and approvals for new projects off the back of the previous week’s success.

And amidst all of _that,_ Magnus _also_ couldn’t help but feel giddy about his date with Alec on Friday, and made plans and arrangements whenever he had a spare moment. He had to plan the menu, choose the movie, pick the perfect outfit (preferably one he hadn’t worn in Paris)… maybe decorate the dining room with roses? Oh, candles. He definitely had to buy a lot of candles. And come up with a romantic playlist, too.

So many things to think about!

It was funny, he mused as he trawled through _Chill Romantic_ and _Easy Listening Date Night_ playlists on Spotify, that just a few short months ago, he’d just wanted Paris Fashion Week over and done with. Sure, he’d wanted a good reception; but looking back, his heart wasn’t really in it the way it was now, the way it had been for several weeks. Back then, he’d mostly wanted the company to do well enough that he could take a year off, vacation away from New York and get as much distance as possible from his mounting personal and career frustrations.

Now, the only thing he wanted was to stay in Brooklyn, and walk down the wonderful path that life seemed to have opened up to him.

Preferably hand-in-hand with Alexander, of course. Which is why Friday needed to be _perfect._

Magnus smiled softly. That’s it. Now that their contract has ended, they could give this thing between them a chance. They had great chemistry. Max loved Alec and Alec clearly liked Max.

It was going to be okay.

Maybe Alexander Lightwood wouldn’t break his heart.

The day itself arrived, and being as Max didn’t have preschool that day, Magnus spent the morning helping him get ready for the party that afternoon – wrapping the toy dalmatian and the book about firefighters, double-checking that Max had everything he’d need for the sleepover, and making sure that he knew that either Magnus or Clary could come pick him up anytime if he wanted to come home.

The party began at one o’clock, so Magnus dropped off Max with a kiss on his cheek and a cheerful wave to Helen - who was not only Max's teacher but also Tavvy’s big sister.

At one-fifteen, he was back home, and the preparations began in earnest.

At ten minutes to seven, Magnus was lighting the last candle when there was a knock at the door, and he smiled. Perfect timing, and he couldn’t blame Alexander for being a tad early – if he was half as anxious as Magnus was for tonight, he’d probably worried about being late and overcompensated, bless him. And once one of the stern-looking doormen let you into a building like this, he could understand how it would be beyond awkward to hang around in the lobby instead of coming on up, however early one was.

“Coming!” he called, stepping away from the table with a satisfied smile, and running his hand through his hair to fluff it one last time before he opened the door with a wide, welcoming smile. “Welcome, dar-”

His voice died in his throat. It wasn’t Alexander.

“Magnus, it’s been too long,” Camille purred, her red lips twitching up into a smirk. “May I come in? We have _so_ much to talk about.” 


	7. Indigo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really, really sorry for taking so long to update, especially after that cliffhanger.   
> I hope you all like this chapter <3  
> I've updated the tags, but I want to reinforce it here - TW for a brief scene describing a panic attack. Please, always be safe!
> 
> Enjoy! ~

_ A glass shattered, followed by several plates. _

_ The hollow symphony crescendoed as the whole dinner got scattered across the floor. Sauce splattered, china broken, candles snuffed out. _

_ Finally, the climax – a deafening slap across the cheek, pained gasps, ragged breath. _

_ Silence. _

_ The Lightwood manor was huge, but it wouldn’t be a surprise if even the sound of a pin dropping could reach the second storey right now, drift up to where Max presumably slept peacefully, with no idea of the scandalized fracas among the rest of his family. _

_ “How dare you?” Maryse spat, out of breath, her hand still hovering in the air. “How dare you humiliate us, our name?” _

_ Alec stayed frozen. His left cheek throbbed painfully, and he wondered if the angry red mark would form the perfect shape of a hand. It had certainly been hard enough.  _

_ His siblings were a few steps behind him, also paralyzed. Last he’d seen, Izzy had Jace’s arm on a painful grip, her hands shaking slightly. _

_ “You knew why this dinner was so important to us. Your behavior was abhorrent, Alexander,” Maryse continued, and Alec finally snapped out of his stupor. _

_ “I… I know, but…” He took a deep breath, knowing better than to let even a single tear escape. If he got emotional, the conversation would be over, and he’d have lost. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised - an engagement dinner? You never told me. I don’t… I…” _

_ “It was a business deal like any other, Alec. I expect you to go into these events prepared for opportunity, not to spit in its face.” _

_ Alec wanted to laugh. A business deal? His life was a damn business deal? _

_ “Alec,” Robert spoke, his tone docile, as if he was talking to a kid who was unable to understand something unbelievably simple. “It was a good arrangement for us. The Nightsbanes have a glowing reputation in all the right circles and even strong ties to the White House. An alliance with them would put the Lightwood name back on top, as one of the most respectable houses in the country.” _

_ “I’m only sixteen!” Alec protested,  _ pleaded. _ “I’m not ready for marriage - not now, probably not even next year. Plus, I don’t even know the girl you chose - except that apparently, she’s even younger than me.” _

_ Maryse’s frown deepened. “I’m appalled, Alec.  _ You’re  _ not ready? I thought I’d taught you better than to be so selfish,” she said, her words clipped, her gaze still furious. “Not that it matters now, of course. After your little  _ display  _ earlier, I can hardly blame them for calling the whole thing off.” She shook her head. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, Alexander. You are a disgrace to our family.”  _

_ Alec winced, wrapping his arms around himself, as if he could just curl up and disappear that way.  _

Family.  _ How could his mother make that word sound so wrong, so cold? _

_ She sighed. “Well. What’s done is done. You will go straight to our office and copy out chapters ten to nineteen from  _ The Prince.” __

_ Izzy and Jace made undignified noises, both attempting to say something in protest - but a single glare from Maryse was enough to shut them up. _

_ “Utter anything and I’ll add ten pages for each word spoken. Am I clear?” _

_ His siblings nodded, defeated. _

_ Alec swallowed. “Mother, I understand, but... perhaps I could do it tomorrow? That many pages will take me hours, and it’s already past ten. I still have to shower, and I have a biology test in the morning.” _

_ “You should have thought of that before making a fool of yourself at dinner,” Maryse said mildly. “If you’ve paid attention in class, you’ll pass the test. You don’t get to use the consequences of your own actions as an excuse, Alexander.” She turned away, Robert trailing behind. “Now. I suggest you get started. We will see you in the morning.” _

_ The door slammed, and the vibration was enough to shake Alec to the core. _

~*~

Paris had been incredible. From the moment he agreed to go, the possibility of spending more time with Magnus had created a bubble of giddy excitement that engulfed his heart and gave him hope.

He grew up learning that hope was a dangerous thing, so he had never dared to let any bloom in his heart. He just accepted things as they were and went along with it. As terrible as it had been to get kicked out of the place he’d called home his whole life, it had also served as a wake up call. It was slow going, of course; he’d read up on enough psychology to understand that ingrained thought patterns didn’t go away overnight. Alec could admit, in his more self-aware moments, that he was still terrible at accepting things for himself - but at least, now, he could give it some thought and honestly consider an opportunity, instead of immediately, instinctively walking away from anything good and happy and sweet.

Magnus’ invitation had been so much more than a business trip to Alec. It was a chance for something completely new and different and exciting, an experience that was his and his only. Something that didn’t involve his siblings or his small handful of friends.

He’d seen months of work coming to life, admired by crowds and immortalized in the flashes of cameras. He’d seen Magnus in his element, blissful and proud, waving his hands around while presenting his collection as if he was casting some kind of powerful spell.

Alec hadn’t been able to help smiling every time he looked at Magnus. If that was the result - Magnus looking so vibrant and alive, able to keep going in the field he clearly loved - then Alec had never been so glad to have offered up his hands.

Then, there was the staff from  _ Magnificent Fashion _ with them in Paris. Alec had only known them for those few months he worked for Magnus, but they’d quickly made an impression as good, trustworthy people. Tessa, Will, Jem, Cordelia, Kieran - pretty much from the get go, they’d treated Alec as though he had always been there with them, as a friend who belonged on the team. Once, when Magnus had already gone to a meeting and Alec was having breakfast by himself in the hotel’s restaurant, a cheerful guy who’d introduced himself as Leon had come and sat down a little too close for comfort, making the barest bit of small talk before bluntly asking him out for a dinner date Alec definitely  _ wasn’t  _ interested in. He said as much, at least five times, but Leon didn’t give up – that is, until Tessa, Will, and Jem had shown up, all pleasant smiles for Alec and pointed, glaring remarks for Leon, who begrudgingly made his exit.

It was strange, really. Usually, Alec was the one to protect others, never the other way around. He’d spent the rest of breakfast feeling oddly warm, but decidedly off-balance, too.

(The latter of which only grew when Will started muttering something about Magnus  _ tearing that insistent bastard a new one.  _ And damn, there it was again, that dangerous, stubborn seed of hope.)

Talking about protectiveness, for some reason he couldn’t exactly explain, all alarms would set off in his mind every time Shinyun approached Magnus. The urge to protect the man was overwhelming, and Alec never failed, not caring if he got caught in the crossfire.

He would be damned if he let that woman taunt Magnus a minute more.

And, of course, Magnus had been the best thing about the whole trip. All their impromptu trips into different parts of the city, the small gifts they’d exchanged, their late-night conversations about everything and nothing while sharing snacks after hours without eating anything, their…

Their dance.

It was easily the most intimate moment Alec had ever had with someone else, and he still grinned like an idiot any time he thought of it, his heart beating double-time. He’d already been falling hard for Magnus, and just barely daring to hope that Magnus’ clear affection might be more than friendship - and that night on the balcony, holding each other gently and swaying to the faint music, had been all the encouragement he needed to stop fruitlessly pining and actually ask Magnus on a date, preferably the very moment the contract ended.

Which is how he’d found himself opposite Magnus in a hotel hallway on Monday morning, not long before he was due at the airport. He’d wanted to stay longer, but however well his siblings had been handling things whilst they were a man down (at least, he  _ assumed  _ it had gone well. Most of his updates had actually been about how much fun the two Maxes were having together), they needed him back. The toy company they were about to close with had mostly been dealing with Alec, after all, and it would be bad form to ask someone else to jump over the last hurdle.

And then Magnus had been talking, and all thoughts of  _ The Runes  _ had gone out of Alec’s head. One of their usual friendly dinners at Magnus’ sounded lovely, if not quite what he’d been hoping for, but perhaps  _ that _ would be the opportunity for Alec to...

To ask Magnus out. To spend time together outside of the contract.

Which was exactly what Magnus had just done.

_ Oh. " _ It’s a date," Alec had said, his stomach twisting, needing the confirmation.

And Magnus had smiled. "It’s a date."

Alec had grinned all the way to the airport. 

~*~

“May I help you?”

Alec startled, turning around and clasping his hands behind his back. Right, he might have been looking at that pretty bouquet of multicolored roses for too long. The florist just smiled kindly and gestured to the bouquet.

“Are you interested in roses or would like to see other options? Is it for a lover?” she asked. 

Alec felt his face heat up a little, but nodded nonetheless. It was either that, or launch into a long spiel about feelings and dancing and the look in Magnus’ eyes. 

Which was  _ way  _ too much to get into with a stranger right at that moment. ‘Lover’ would do fine. 

It was Friday, and after a long week of work and meetings and his siblings pestering him for each and every detail of his trip - to their credit, they  _ had  _ asked about the work, not  _ just  _ Magnus - it was finally time for their date. Alec was looking forward to it even more than he’d thought he would. Honestly, even though it had only been a matter of days, he kind of missed Magnus - they’d barely had time to even text, both of them absurdly busy, having to hit the ground running after their time away. Maybe Alec was a sap and was getting prematurely attached, but he wanted to see Magnus again, wanted to be with him, talk to him and…

Well. It was a date, right?

Surely kissing wouldn’t be…  _ entirely  _ off the table?

He glanced back at the roses, debating for the hundredth time whether they were too much. “It’s a first date,” he explained to the florist, “so I don’t want to overwhelm him. But I also want to show that I really, really like him. That I appreciate him.”

The lady grinned, her eyes twinkling. “Well, I’d normally recommend a standard bouquet… but for a first date, I think we can arrange something extra-special. Do you happen to know anything about the language of flowers? It’s something of a hobby of mine.”

Alec shook his head - and then proceeded to undergo an almost ten-minute lesson about all the different colors and meanings, the florist showing him the best options to give to his significant other, recommending things that suited a budding romance.

It was a lot of information, but Alec paid attention to each word to make sure he would pick the right combination of flowers, ending up with a white bouquet of something called hoary stock (for happiness, affection, and unfading beauty) mixed with white jasmine (for sweet love). He hoped Magnus would like it. 

That wasn’t the only way he was hoping to impress, of course - he’d also gone all-out on the clothing front, sacrificing the comfort of a sweater in favor of a dark blue button-up shirt Izzy had helped him to pick out. 

You couldn’t fix everything with a nice-ish shirt, of course. His boots were still visibly battered despite the copious coats of polish he’d tried to imbue them with, and his hair seemed to be actively rebelling against his attempts to tame it and was even more of a lost cause than usual. Still, hopefully Magnus would appreciate the effort. 

The walk from the florist’s took him about ten minutes. He turned the corner onto Magnus’ street – and stopped, unsure why the scene in front of him caught his attention. A blonde woman stood before the doorman, the mermaid flare of her dress rustling gently in the breeze as she leaned in towards him – more steadily than her precarious heels should have allowed – one hand drifting down to his, and the other reaching up to caress his cheek.

And then she was stepping away, and as she turned to enter the building Alec’s stomach dropped, her vague familiarity in profile crystallizing into something sharp and wicked and sure.

Camille Belcourt. 

Before he fully registered it, Alec was on the move again until he was outside of the building waiting for his identity to be confirmed, the doorman having to pocket the scrap of paper Camille had apparently handed him – an autograph, maybe, or perhaps even a phone number if she wanted to really lay it on thick.

Through the glass, Alec watched her step into the elevator, trying to keep his expression calm. If he aroused suspicion, the delay would only make this situation worse. 

By the time he was allowed in, the elevator was already on the third floor, and Alec only hesitated for a moment before launching himself towards the stairs, taking them two at a time.

He didn’t know what the hell Camille was doing here, but one thing was for sure. He wasn’t gonna let Magnus face her alone. 

The front door to the loft was ajar, and Alec’s heart rate spiked even further after his race up the stairs. From the little he knew about Camille, he wouldn’t put it past her to have barged in, without waiting for a welcome. He crept inside, eyes scanning the room for her, for Magnus – and catching instead on the beautiful set-up at the dining table, the soft lighting and candles that matched the low echo of music. He swallowed. God, it would have been perfect.

The source of exactly why it  _ wasn’t  _ turned out to be on the balcony, and Alec moved closer, until he could make out what Camille was saying. 

“…won’t last, Magnus,” Camille said, her expression twisting in saccharine pity. “I mean, I know he’s your type, with that dark hair and those eyes – but come on, now. I can’t blame you for wanting a pretty little thing to fuck, but  _ romance?  _ With him? I wish you wouldn’t delude yourself, sweetheart. You think a little mouse like that has got the guts to stick around with someone twice his age, to put up with a screaming toddler?”

_ “Don’t.”  _ Magnus was practically  _ glowing  _ with rage, and Alec resisted a shiver at the vitriol in his voice. “Say what you like about me, Camille – you always have, after all. But I won’t stand for you insulting Max or Alexander. They’re better people than you will ever be.” 

Camille rolled her eyes. “Jesus, Magnus, when did you start getting so attached to strays? Don’t you miss who you were, who  _ we  _ were?” She smiled. “We took the world by storm, Magnus. You and me, and enough drive that no one could stand in our way. Tell me you don’t want that back.”

“Stop,” Magnus growled – but his voice cracked, and Alec’s heart twisted in sympathy. God, he knew he shouldn’t interrupt, not while Magnus was holding his ground, but he sounded so  _ hurt.  _ “I don’t know where you get off coming up here like this, but I want nothing to do with you. Not anymore.”

“Wow, you can’t even see it, can you?” Camille chuckled. “How much you’ve changed, how much you’ve lost?” She sighed. “Poor Magnus. That accident broke more than your fingers, didn’t it?” 

“An accident you  _ saw,”  _ Magnus snarled. “Right before you walked away and left me in the street to die, remember?”

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” Camille said, sounding for all the world like an exhausted parent. “You didn’t die, and you’d made it clear you wanted nothing more to do with me. God alone knows why I’m here now, trying to offer you yet  _ another  _ chance.” She smiled, reaching out and trailing a hand down Magnus’ arm, either failing to notice or just plain ignoring the way he visibly stiffened at the contact. “I saw you in Paris,” she purred. “Your glorious comeback. You’ve still got that old spark in you, Magnus, whether you want to admit it or not.” She drew her hand back, spreading her arms a little in a gesture of welcome. “Why not come with me? We could go anywhere, you and me. Leave the kid with a friend; or hell, send him back to the orphanage you got him from. You get your freedom, and he’ll get a proper family – everybody wins.” She smirked. “And as for your  _ sugar  _ baby, I wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to fuck him before you call it off. You can come and meet me afterwards.”

Alec scowled. Okay, this had gone on long enough. She didn’t get to talk about his– about Max like that. She didn’t get to treat Magnus like this.

He stepped forward onto the balcony, mouth open to intervene...

And then slack-jawed in shock as Camille grabbed Magnus by the collar and pulled him into a harsh kiss.

The bouquet fell from his loose, stunned grasp, and the soft patter was apparently enough to garner the attention of Magnus – who stepped backwards and turned wide,  _ guilty _ eyes on Alec, as if the kiss had somehow been his doing – and Camille, who didn’t look even remotely surprised to see another person in the doorway, merely tilting her head with a small, condescending smile. 

“Oh, he’s even cuter up close, Magnus,” she said lightly, but she didn’t get another word out before Alec lunged forwards, grabbing her by the wrist and practically dragging her back out to the elevator, before slamming his hand into the down button.

“Listen to me, because I will only warn you once,” he said quietly, pouring as much darkness and threat into his words as he could, shifting into the sort of tone he’d heard his parents use on countless rivals when the outside world offered no scrutiny. “If I ever catch you back here – if I ever hear that you’ve come near Magnus or Max again? You’re finished,” he growled, using every inch of his height to loom over her, gratified when the smirk slipped from her face. “Because my first call will be to the police, to report you for harassment, and tell them that I believe you’re an imminent threat to the Banes’ safety. Should be easy, given the sexual assault I just witnessed. Then, when the authorities show up, my second, third, fourth calls – those will be to every news outlet and tabloid I can get a hold of, so they can send their cameras to get the whole thing on record.” He flashed a dangerous smile. “You’ll be ruined, Camille. Everyone will know exactly what kind of person you are.” The elevator dinged, and he stepped backwards, letting his expression shift into something more pleasant, even polite. “So if you value your career and your reputation, I suggest you stay away from now on.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and strode back into the loft, slamming and locking the door behind him. 

Magnus was in the living room, now, sitting on the sofa and staring down at the bouquet in his hands, occasionally lifting a finger to trace lightly over the pale petals. “These are beautiful, darling,” he said mildly, only the barest tremor betraying him as anything other than calm. “You have good taste.” 

Alec swallowed the painful lump in his throat. “I’m glad you like them.”

He wandered over to join Magnus on the couch, perching on the edge of it, desperately unsure where they went from here.

Until, eventually - “Do you think we’re too different?” he blurted out. Which maybe wasn’t the ideal thing to say; but he had to ask, had to know whether their disparities in wealth and age and influence and experience bothered Magnus as effectively as they pressed up against every one of Alec’s insecurities. 

Magnus sighed, and Alec’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, but when Magnus looked up at him, he had a small, hopeful smile on his face. “I think we’re  _ quite  _ different,” he said. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing, Alexander.” He glanced back down at the bouquet, his fingers trailing over the petals again, like some sort of meditation. “I can hardly express how different things have become since I’ve known you,” he murmured. “And I want you to know how much I value that. Even if this proves a bit much for you to deal with, which I would understand – what with my age, all the baggage that comes with that–"

“I don’t care about that,” Alec interrupted, shifting a little closer, recapturing Magnus’ gaze. “Everyone’s got baggage, Magnus. But I don’t care about things like Camille, or Shinyun, and I don’t care about your age. I care about  _ you.” _

He risked a small smile, pleased when Magnus returned it. “Besides,” Alec teased, reaching up to brush gently over Magnus’ temple, over the black and gray hairs that tucked slightly behind his ear. “You’ve got the makings of a really hot silver fox.”

Magnus’ expression split into a wide grin.  _ “Really hot,  _ huh?” he chuckled. “Well, I suppose you had to notice at some point, Alexander.”

“I noticed the moment I met you,” Alec said plainly. “It just seemed a risky thing to say to my _boss_ , you know?”

Magnus hummed in apparent understanding, his expression softening. “Alexander,” he said, his hand lightly brushing over Alec’s cheek, now. “I have to be sure – if we go ahead with this, you know that you’ll be choosing to have Max around, too.” His expression twisted a little sheepishly. “I mean, of course you wouldn’t say the vile things she was saying, but I know agreeing to be in a toddler’s life is a responsibility.”

“I know,” Alec said quietly, sincerely. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way. I don’t want to change a thing about our situation.”

He bit his lip, his gaze drawn helplessly downwards. “Well, except that I’d really like to be kissing you right now,” he admitted.

The last piece of uncertainty seemed to visibly lift from Magnus, and suddenly he was that bright, sweet, joyful man again – the one Alec was inescapably falling for. “Darling, you had only to ask,” he whispered.

And slowly, in that moment, they leaned in...

And chose each other. 

~*~

One date became two, three, four – and after the fifth one, when they were both more certain than ever that they were both in this for the long haul, they decided it was time to tell Max.

Alec, of course, spent the whole day before the revelation fretting anxiously about the outcome, overthinking and working himself up halfway to a panic attack. Whether it was too soon or not, he already loved Max like he was family, and no amount of reassurance from Magnus could wholly quell the fear of rejection. What if Max got defensive, jealous that someone else could be taking his  _ bapa’s  _ attention? How could he expect Magnus to stay if Max didn’t want Alec around, didn’t want Alec in their lives anymore? 

As he probably could have predicted if he wasn’t so worried, his fears were unfounded. 

The three of them enjoyed a delicious dinner of homemade pizza, and shortly after they’d finished eating, Magnus explained to Max that he’d probably be seeing a lot more of Alec, because Bapa and Alec were boyfriends now.

In response, Max promptly squealed in joy and  _ charged, _ practically knocking the wind out of Alec as he barreled into his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around him. 

_ Oh,  _ Alec thought, glancing up at Magnus’ wide, adoring smile at the picture they must be making, and swallowing the lump in his throat.

If he hadn’t  _ already  _ felt like he belonged – if he hadn’t already been determined to protect and cherish this tiny, wonderful family unit he’d lucked his way into – that moment alone would probably have been enough to seal the deal for him, anyway. 

Later - once Max had been granted another installment of his favorite  _ Archer and Warlock _ bedtime story, and then tucked into bed - Alec followed Magnus up to the rooftop, shaking his head fondly as Magnus shifted his armful of blankets into the crook of one elbow so that he could pull down his too-short sweater sleeves. “I’m one-hundred percent sure you have nicer sweaters you could be wearing,” Alec pointed out.

“Stealing one’s boyfriend’s clothes is a time-honored tradition, Alexander,” Magnus declared, glancing back over his shoulder. “Even if said clothes are an atrocious shade of grayish mulberry.”

“It’s plum, actually.”

“It  _ was,  _ darling,” Magnus corrected. “It is no longer, however. I half suspect that you sunbathe in these things, what with how faded they manage to get.”

“You caught me,” Alec said with a smile, stepping out onto the rooftop as Magnus held the door, and wandering over to drop his load of blankets onto the small deck. “I go sunbathing in blackberry bushes. That’s how they get faded  _ and _ torn  _ and _ stained all at once. It’s very efficient.”

Magnus chuckled, dropping his own blankets and following them down onto the deck, pulling Alec with him. “Well, holes and stains aside,” he murmured, leaning close, “it’s warm and comfortable and it smells nice. Which is to say–" he pressed a quick peck of a kiss to Alec’s lips “-you’re never getting it back.”

Alec grinned, and dove in for a proper kiss. 

They cuddled together under the blankets, Alec’s back resting against Magnus’ chest as they talked lowly and gazed up at the few stars peeping through New York’s perpetual haze of light.

Alec reached up and took one of Magnus’ hands, carefully massaging the slightly tight muscles and day-worn joints. He felt a lot less hesitant about doing that, these days, after Magnus had confessed how much it helped.  _ I haven’t really had anyone to do that,  _ he’d admitted.  _ It was… difficult, for a long time. To let anyone else touch them. Even Ragnor, or Catarina. _

_ I think I can understand that,  _ Alec had said.  _ It can’t have been easy, especially with all of that press saying how you’d ‘lost your magic’. Which is bullshit, by the way. You’ve got more magic inside you than anyone I’ve ever met. _

Magnus had blinked hard for a few moments, and then given a hoarse chuckle.  _ You really will be the death of me, Alexander. But what a wonderful way to go.  _

His massage complete on both hands, Alec shifted slightly and raised Magnus’ hands to his lips – kissing the fingertips, the knuckles, the palms. Magnus’ eyes fluttered closed and he tilted his head forward, his lips tracing softly along Alec’s skin and peppering his face with kisses. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“Of course.”

“I don’t just mean for my hands,” Magnus insisted, his eyes opening, but still half-lidded in contentment. “Just… thank you.” 

Words seemed insufficient after that, so Alec instead drew him into a deeper kiss, his stomach swooping as the heat grew to something almost unbearable - and then he was pushing Magnus back down onto their little nest of blankets, immediately drawn even closer with strong, gentle arms. 

In between gasps and lingering kisses, they made love.

~*~

A soft ballad was playing in the Banes’ kitchen, which Alec and Magnus were incredibly thankful for after listening to  _ Baby Shark _ thirty-seven times that day – not that anyone was counting, of course. Fortunately, Max had eventually shown mercy – in his own words, “Okay, it can be Bapa’s turn to choose” – and let Magnus change it.

Alec was staying for dinner, as he often did these days. He would help with chopping vegetables, grinding spices in the pestle and mortar – pretty much any monotonous prep task that was tough on the hands – before turning control back over to his host. Magnus had become more daring with his cooking recently, trying new recipes instead of sticking to old favorites. Tonight’s dish was a traditional paella. 

Meanwhile, Alec sat next to Max on the kitchen island, entertaining the toddler as they drew together. After doodling for a while, Max instead brought over his newest coloring book – a superhero-themed one, naturally – and opened it onto a new page, declaring that he would color the one on the left while Alec colored the one on right. 

The air filled with the comforting smell of herbs and rice as Magnus added the last few ingredients to the paella, and Alec lost himself for a moment in the warmth of the loft, the scratch of colorful pencils on paper, Magnus softly humming along to the song he’d chosen. 

A giggle broke the spell, and Alec glanced up at Max, whose eyes were fixed on Alec’s page. “Superman doesn’t paint his face, silly.” 

Alec looked back at the image, smiling faintly at the blue smudge of eyeshadow above Clark Kent’s eyes, and the slightly thicker outline beneath it. There wasn’t an outline for his lips included in the template, but he could always add one, providing that he first decided on which color he ought to fill them in.

“Well,” he said, fondness heating his cheeks just a little, “I know he’s already got his super-strength. But your bapa is the strongest person I know, and he has that  _ and  _ makeup. Why shouldn’t Superman have both too?”

Max nodded with another giggle, but what really drew Alec’s attention was a sudden, fairly high-pitched sound from behind him. Alec turned his head to see Magnus staring resolutely down at the paella pan, poking at it needlessly with a spatula and shaking his head as he fought a wide smile.

A smile crept onto Alec’s own expression as a plan started to form.

Two nights later, he stayed a little later than usual at  _ The Runes’  _ new headquarters – which was a three-storey building with a  _ lot _ more space than their old one, with space for even a conference room and a small events hall. In the office space, the desks were no longer crammed together, the monitor wires running down from them could be neatly arranged instead of shoved up against walls, and the bulky electrical equipment was no longer shoved into a tiny room that felt like a perpetual fire risk with how warm it got. Between that, and Magnus’ investment resulting in a much more decent wage for everyone involved (hell, even for a couple more employees, if they wanted to expand), morale was way up.

For management tasks that required peace and quiet, Alec now had a nice big private office, which offered a beautiful cityscape view from the balcony – and, at Magnus’ suggestion, had an intercom connected to the small playroom next door. But for drawing, he generally preferred the communal office area, which was where Magnus found him that night. 

“Hey,” he said, smiling as he finally noticed Magnus in the doorway. “No Max this evening?”

“No, Clary’s helping him with his homework,” Magnus said, coming to perch on the edge of Alec’s desk and bending down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “What are you working on, honey?”

“It’s, uh, a new character,” Alec explained, hesitating for only a moment before zooming out to give Magnus a view of the whole picture.

As expected, Magnus’ eyes lit up in realization, his lips twitching upwards. “A new character?”

“Yeah,” Alec said, trying not to sound as self-conscious as he felt. “For the new expansion. He’s an NPC you meet at level forty-eight – and he’s a demon prince, but he’s one of the good guys. Rather than letting his demonic heritage define him, he chooses a path of kindness, and all of his quests are about helping other NPCs and protecting powerful artifacts; you know, stopping them from falling into the wrong hands, things like that.” 

“I see,” Magnus said, a hint of teasing in his voice. “And is there any particular reason he looks so…  _ familiar?”  _

_ Does he?  _ Alec considered saying, but he had to admit that it was pretty obvious. The prince had warm brown skin, high-spiked hair, elegant makeup around his golden eyes, and plenty of jewelry glinting under his long cloak. He’d expected Magnus to recognize himself in the design. “There’s gonna be a poll after we release the expansion,” he explained. “The whole team made a bet about which of us could create a new fan favorite, and you seemed like pretty good inspiration for my entry.” He chuckled a little sheepishly. “Sorry if that’s weird.” 

But Magnus smiled, warm and open and understanding. “It isn’t,” he insisted. “In fact, I’m flattered, Alexander.”

Alec gazed back at him, a little entranced.  _ Damn,  _ Magnus was beautiful. Alec could probably look at him forever.

Magnus, however, seemed to have other plans, and suddenly pushed Alec’s chair back from the desk, using the extra space to straddle Alec’s thighs.

“Magnus–” But the rest of what Alec was going to say was cut off by Magnus’ lips meeting his in a searing kiss, Alec pulling him closer by the waist while Magnus buried his fingers in Alec’s hair – just a caress, at first, shifting into a gentle tug, pulling Alec’s head back and exposing his neck so that Magnus could lean down, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive skin. Alec moaned, his hips jerking upwards, just a little.

Magnus grinned and stopped his movements.

“What do you say we break in that new desk of yours, Alexander?” he whispered, his breath tickling over the hickey he’d just left – and then he was gone, striding towards Alec’s office with a low, joyful laugh. 

Alec blindly turned his computer screen off and stumbled after him. 

The character design could wait until the next day.

~*~

Six months after they’d started dating, Alec and Magnus had settled into a blissfully domestic routine. Alec slept more at Magnus’ loft than his own apartment, these days. And if he’d overheard right the other day, their friends had started taking bets on how much longer it would take for the official ‘moving-in-together’. 

On the rare days they didn’t sleep in the same bed, Alec would join Magnus for breakfast instead, carrying takeout coffee and pastries up to Magnus’ office and enjoying his boyfriend’s company for a little while before heading off to  _ The Runes.  _

It was one of those days, and Alec opened Magnus’ office door with some difficulty, trying not to drop their food. “I’m so sorry it took so long, Jace called with this crazy idea for a character with golden wings and I was explaining that I’d have to adapt some of the clothes and accessories and-"

He looked up, his words dying in his throat, and his grip on the pastries finally faltering for good. From the way his hands were shaking, the coffee might well be next. “…What are you doing here?” he breathed, instinctive fear pooling cold in his gut. 

“As insolent as ever, I see,” Maryse said mildly, her expression tilting into a slight frown. Alec felt his own expression twist in response.

Magnus cleared his throat, fixing Alec with a steady, severe gaze. “They’ve come to discuss  _ The Runes,  _ apparently,” he murmured.

_ “Why?”  _ Alec demanded, though it came out more desperate than he would have liked. “They have nothing to do with it.”

“Jonathan and Isabelle never told you, then,” Robert said, shifting in his seat and glancing at the comfortable, colorful office with obvious disdain. 

Alec swallowed, automatically stumbling forwards and placing down the coffee cups before they would hit the deck, too. “Told me  _ what,  _ exactly?”

“Don’t be so naïve,” Maryse scoffed. “You’re telling me that you honestly thought they came by your start-up money themselves? You may not have much of a company, Alexander, but even measly endeavors take more than a few auctioned trinkets. We funded the rest.”

“No,” Alec said, because it couldn’t, he  _ couldn’t –  _ “No, there must be some mistake-"

“It’s all there in the contract,” Maryse said smoothly, impassive in the face of her eldest son’s distress. “We loaned them the money, in exchange for exclusive rights to the Lightwood name. That might have been all right, but your siblings got greedy; they demanded clauses like allowing Max visitation, and letting the three of you run your little company without any ‘interference’ on our part. Apparently, the raised interest that served as an exchange for these concessions took things somewhat out of your budget. It’s been months since the due date, now, and we can’t afford to wait any longer.”

Alec leaned against Magnus’ desk, eyes flicking to the man behind it beseechingly.  _ Tell me they’re lying. Tell me this isn’t happening. _

But Magnus just nodded grimly. “I’m afraid it’s true, Alexander,” he said gently. “They’ve shown me a copy of the contract. If the debt isn’t resolved in the next few weeks, they have every right to shut down the company.”

Alec breathed as deeply as he could into lungs that suddenly felt too small. “How much do we owe you?”

“Five-hundred and sixteen thousand dollars,” Robert said.

Alec closed his eyes briefly, willing the sting of tears not to manifest. Half a million dollars. They didn’t have that kind of money, they’d be lucky if they could raise it selling  _ everything,  _ every possession and concept and right.

“We received an anonymous call that you’d somehow found yourself an investor,” Maryse commented. “We came to warn Mr. Bane here to withdraw whilst he still could.”

“And as I told you,” Magnus said, ignoring Maryse’s scowl and shifting into his most businesslike tone, “much as I appreciate your kindness, Maryse, such a warning is uncalled for. I’ve found _The Runes_ to be a most worthwhile investment, and I trust that they will soon overcome this little… adversity.”

Maryse raised an eyebrow. “Your loss, Mr. Bane.” She turned back to Alec. “As for you, you have one month from today to pay us back in full. Otherwise, we’ll simply have to take whatever assets the three of your have as recompense.” 

Alec nodded, his jaw tight. “You’ll have your money by then,” he gritted out, forcing himself not to recoil, to face them head-on and meet their eyes dispassionately.

Robert frowned in apparent disbelief, but Maryse nodded with a small, self-satisfied smile. Without another word to Magnus, she led Robert from the room, barely pausing as she passed Alec. 

“Things usually end the same way they start, Alexander. What do you think that means for people who started from nothing?”

Then they were gone, and the door slammed behind them. 

_ The door slammed behind Alec. _

_ He only realized a few seconds later that he was shaking. He’d thought he had more time, thought if he kept his head down and studied, at least until he got his degree...  _

_ How did they even find out? He wasn’t dating anyone. He’d never even  _ kissed _ anyone.  _

_ Yet here he was anyway, with nowhere to go, nothing but his phone and his wallet and the clothes on his back. _

_ He hadn’t even been allowed to say goodbye to his siblings.  _

_ He angrily wiped away his tears, taking one last glance at a home that wasn’t his anymore.  _

_ Well, he thought grimly. At least that was the last door his parents would be able to slam in his face. _

“…’xander. Come on, darling. Slow breaths, in and out.”

The fog in Alec’s head finally started to clear and he saw Magnus in front of him, his beautiful golden-green eyes wide in worry.

“What?” Alec croaked, only now realizing how painful it was to  _ breathe _ .

“There you are.” Magnus gave a relieved smile. “You were having a panic attack, my love. Come on, let’s go sit down and try some breathing exercises, all right?”

Alec nodded and let Magnus guide him over to a couch. They spent the next few minutes trying to normalize Alec’s breathing, until he finally started to feel better. Even so, he could still feel the same awful tension in every part of his body, each joint painfully reminding him of the fear that had overwhelmed him. Shivering with a sudden thrill of cold, he was immensely grateful when Magnus offered him a steaming cup of tea. Apparently, he was still pretty out of it, if he didn’t even notice it being made. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Magnus… what if she’s right? It’s not like we entered into this with any kind of safety net. Maybe we’re going to end up right back where we started.”

“She isn’t right,” Magnus insisted. “People change their circumstances every day, Alexander. Financial privilege is a significant head start, but it’s not the only way people find success.”

Alec nodded, but the worry still gnawed at him. “Maybe not, but it’s still a lot of money. Money that we don’t have – we’re stable, now, but we’ve invested all our liquid assets. And unless Jace or Izzy won the lottery and didn’t tell me, none of us have enough personal savings to make a dent, either.”

Magnus opened his mouth to answer, but Alec cut him off. “And I won’t take a cent from you,” he said firmly. “This is on us to fix, and besides, even you can’t take that kind of financial hit without serious repercussions.”

Magnus huffed and rolled his eyes. “Stubborn boy. Firstly, it’s on  _ us  _ to fix, since I’m still your investor. And secondly,” he said, cutting off Alec’s attempt at protesting that, “if you won’t take a bail-out, there are other ways I can help. For example, as soon as Ragnor gets in, I’m going to ask him to look over the contract and see if he can find a loophole. If he can’t, we’ll start looking for other options. But whatever happens, I’m with you all the way, darling.”

He smiled, taking Alec’s hand and intertwining their fingers. “We’ll make it through this, okay? One step at a time.” 

Alec tried his best to return the smile, hoping beyond hope that Magnus was right about that.

~*~

“Well?”

Izzy and Jace winced at his tone, eyes tracking Alec as he paced their small living room.

“I’m sorry we never told you about the contract with Mom and Dad,” Izzy said sheepishly, having the decency to look ashamed.

“Yeah, we didn’t think it was a big  _ deal _ ,” Jace said. Unfortunately for him, his joke only earned him an elbow from Izzy and a glare from Alec.

“This isn’t funny!” Alec shouted - and then took a breath, seeing how his siblings flinched. Being angry wouldn’t help now. The damage was already done. 

Taking a deep breath, he finally settled, slumping into the armchair opposite the couch where Izzy and Jace were sitting. “What makes me angry isn’t the fact that you two actually  _ signed _ a fucking contract with our parents. Yeah, that was stupid - but what’s worse is that you lied to me when I asked about the money. If I knew where it came from, I could have made a  _ plan;  _ we could have handled things differently _. _ Even if we had to pay it back cent by cent, we might have been able to manage it. Or at least buy ourselves some more time before Maryse and Robert came breathing down our necks.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. Damn it. And damn  _ him  _ for the leniency that had come back to bite them on the ass. He’d known, he’d  _ known  _ he should have investigated the money further, but he’d ignored his instincts in favor of believing his siblings, despite their vagueness on the subject. He’d wanted,  _ needed  _ to keep the peace with the people who meant everything to him.

He scoffed. What a thing to be punished for. 

“What are we going to do?” Izzy murmured. “The only way we could liquidate anywhere near that kind of money is selling  _ everything _ we have. At that point, it’d just be faster to  _ let  _ them shut us down.”

“What about side jobs?” Jace suggested. “But all of us this time, not just Alec.” 

Alec shook his head tiredly. “We could work side jobs until we burned out entirely, and it wouldn’t matter. The same way it wouldn’t help to sell the new premises. The money’s only helpful if we can get it within a month.”

“Crowdfunding, then,” Izzy declared. “We can set the deadline for that, at least-"

“No. We can’t fix this by taking money from other people.”

“Alec,” she snapped, “we’re not gonna fix this if we let our pride get in the way-"

“It’s not about pride,” Alec gritted out. “But what do you want to tell people when they ask why we need the money, hm? ‘We’re drowning in debt to our parents’? Either we come off as spoiled rich kids throwing tantrums, or Robert and Maryse come off as villains and slap us with a lawsuit for defamation that’ll bankrupt us anyway.”

Silence fell for a few moments, and Alec broke it, leaning forward with a groan. “We’re not gonna solve this tonight,” he relented, sighing deeply. “We can always brainstorm a few more ideas right now, but let’s call an urgent meeting tomorrow after business hours to tackle this properly. Simon will already be there, and Jace, you can call Clary in.”

Jace gave a tiny smile. “You must be desperate if you’re inviting Clary in,” he said, a little teasingly.

Alec snorted. “I guess so. I still think she’s horrendously unrealistic with her ideas most of the time, but maybe we could use some of that…  _ reckless creativity  _ right now,” he admitted. 

Izzy gave a knowing grin. “I’m guessing Magnus will be there too?”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Behave. Of course he will be,” he muttered, internally bemoaning the helpless fondness that entered his tone.

Fondness that was caught by his siblings, if the faintly sappy looks on their faces were anything to go by.

“I’m glad you found each other,” Izzy said softly.

“Yeah, he’s good for you,” Jace added. 

Alec glanced away, but he smiled. “I know,” he said simply. After all, now wasn’t the time for simpering declarations of love.

They had work to do. 

~*~

The tension in the air of _The Runes_ ’ conference room was palpable, and for a long time it seemed nobody dared say a word to break it. Clary and Simon were trawling through information on a laptop; Izzy was furiously scribbling notes which ended up two-thirds crossed-out; Jace was twirling a pen, keeping his hands busy as he leaned back with his feet propped on the table, frowning in thought; and if Alec didn’t stop messing with his hair, running his hands through it and tugging at it, the nervous tick might soon be enough to drive him bald. But they were already an hour into their emergency meeting and no one had come up with a feasible plan yet.

Salvation came in the form of Magnus Bane.

Izzy was the one to clue Alec in that Magnus had arrived. “Magnus,” she greeted, and Alec’s gaze darted over to the doorway, a faint smile coming to his face at the sight of his boyfriend. “Come on in, join the despair. Have a cup of coffee.”

“Thank you, but I’ve already had six today,” he said, throwing her a smile before coming over to perch on Alec’s part of the conference table, reaching up to gently tidy the bird’s nest Alec must have made of his hair with all the fiddling. “I didn’t sleep all that well last night, what with everything going on. But I bring good news.”

“Did Ragnor find a loophole in the contract?” Alec asked, hardly daring to hope.

“Unfortunately not,” Magnus said sympathetically. “Your parents were very thorough, regrettably. Ragnor says he’s rarely seen a contract with so few loose threads to pull at.” He smiled, turning to the rest of the room, which had all eyes on him now. “However, I believe I’ve found a way for you to raise the money you need. Are you aware of the convention happening in Manhattan in three weeks’ time?”

“The Witchlight Convention?” Clary asked. “Yeah, a couple of my friends from art school mentioned they’d be back in town for it.”

“Well, I think it would be well worth our while to attend, too,” Magnus said. “This year, there’s a special runway event, celebrating character design and costuming. It’s a competition, and first prize is three-hundred thousand dollars.”

Alec’s jaw dropped. “That’s… a lot of money.”

“It’s a private sponsorship,” Magnus explained. “The con managed to secure a big investment from the head of the Fairyland Group.”

Izzy let out a low whistle. “Big player.”

“Is that the one with the really eccentric CEO? The one whose subordinates call her ‘the Queen’?” Jace asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“The very same,” Magnus confirmed. “Her son is something of a superstar in geek circles, these days. He runs one of those media critic sites dedicated to sci-fi and fantasy, and his YouTube channel has millions of subscribers. Apparently, his mother has chosen this year to take a financial interest in his hobbies; hence the prize money, wherein lies our great hope.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Alec cautioned, rising from his chair and barely resisting the urge to start pacing. “What exactly  _ is _ the competition?”

“I’ve got it here,” Simon called, gesturing to the laptop. “Each participant enters five outfits inspired by established or new concepts of fantasy or sci-fi,” he read. “Points will be awarded based on costume quality, adherence to the theme, and runway panache. Bonus points will be awarded for the creation of a sixth costume designed for children, originality, and the realistic function of any specialist clothing.” 

“Great,” Alec said, “except we don’t have the materials to make proper costumes. I don’t think we even have a sewing machine.”

Magnus cleared his throat.

“Oh, come on,” Alec said, turning to him and giving him a fond, exasperated smile. “There’s no way that isn’t cheating. You’re a professional, and a ridiculously successful one to boot.”

Magnus just grinned. “Simon, would you click on the  _ Sponsorships  _ subtitle for me?”

A moment later, Simon’s eyes widened. “He’s right,” he said excitedly. “There are two categories – individual and small company. If  _ The Runes  _ enters as a company, we’re allowed one corporate sponsor.” 

“And you know,” Magnus said lightly, “this sounds like  _ exactly  _ the kind of opportunity  _ Magnificent Fashion  _ has been looking for recently. Bring me the designs, and I can provide fabric, manpower, models – you name it.”

His expression softened, and he took Alec’s hands in his, squeezing gently. “I don’t have words for how much your assistance contributed to our success in Paris,” he murmured. “Let me return the favor. After all,” he added with a smile, “we make a damn good team.”

Alec nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said before raising his voice again and turning to the rest of the room. “So, if we manage to win this thing – a big if, I know, but it’s not like we stand a chance in the alternative scenario – we also need to come up with a plan to raise the other forty percent of what we need.”

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue, actually,” Magnus pointed out. “Runways aren’t just for people to swoon over new clothes; there are always buyers in the crowd. You could put a starting price on all of your clothes, hold an auction after the show, and sell them to the highest bidder.”

“Rich nerds do pay well,” Izzy admitted. “That might help put a dent in what we owe even if we  _ don’t  _ win.”

“And with a big enough dent, perhaps  _ then  _ you’ll even be able to reconsider my offer of covering the remaining debt myself,” Magnus said with a wink. “We may be able to get it down to a number you’ll accept my help with.”

Alec shook his head with a small smile. “Maybe. But if we win, we’ll owe you half the prize money and we’ll find a way to pay you that back at some point. It’s only fair.”

“You could do that,” Magnus said with a shrug. “Of course, as a businessman, I have to look after my investments. And just so you know, I think the amount of money you’re describing would be  _ perfect  _ in the hands of this wonderful indie game company I support.” He grinned. “I’ll likely sink it all into that.”

Alec sighed, but he couldn’t help but smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Thank you, my love. I find it pairs well with  _ dazzlingly handsome.” _

Of course, Alec had long since figured out a fool-proof way to win their little word wars; and so he pulled Magnus in by the lapels and kissed him thoroughly, giving a smug smile as he pulled back and left his boyfriend speechless. 

Clary giggled, Izzy wolf-whistled and Jace fake-gagged.

“Dude, not here. I need my eyes.”

“Close them then, Blondie,” Magnus quipped, regaining his voice. “Also, if you don’t like us  _ kissing  _ in here, you  _ really  _ wouldn’t approve of our lunch date in Alexander’s office the other day.”

“Gross!”

“Magnus!” Alec felt his cheeks burn, but didn’t stop Magnus from pulling him closer by the waist. It felt so natural now, being at his side. Even so, he cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “Right. Anyway. The contest.”

“The contest,” Izzy agreed, albeit with a sly grin. “When’s the application deadline?”

“Uh… today,” Clary read, worrying at her lower lip. “In fact, we have two hours until they close applications.”

“We only have two hours to draft a concept and apply? Fantastic,” Alec deadpanned. “What’s the application fee?”

“Three-hundred dollars.”

“Fuck, do any of us have that?” Jace asked, getting up to stand behind Clary, his arms looping over her shoulders as he looked at the screen.

“Happy early birthday, Trace,” Magnus cut in, staring down at his phone as he typed. “As a present to you, I’ve just put three hundred dollars in  _ The Runes’  _ tertiary account.”

Jace grinned. “Much obliged, Magnus. What a thoughtful gift.”

Alec, for his part, groaned, closing his eyes and resting his forehead heavily on Magnus’ shoulder. Damn rich boyfriends and their insufferable, sneaky generosity. 

“So,” Izzy said, her eyes alight. “Are we really doing this?” 

There were a few glances around the room, and then the decision seemed to rest with Alec, everyone turning to him.

And sure, maybe he was the company naysayer most of the time. But in this case, there was really only one possible answer. 

“Yeah. We’re doing this.” 

Magnus grinned, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Together,” he said. 

And Alec looked around the room, looked at the hopeful, excited faces of some of the most important people in the world to him. 

And he smiled. “Together,” he agreed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know this time - I may or may not post next Friday. It depends on how next will turn out, but if I should skip an update, I'll give my best to post as soon as possible! 
> 
> Thank you for still being here <3


	8. Violet - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I took too long this time 😖  
> So, some things first ~  
> As you can see, once more the chapter count changed. This chapter was supposed to be longer, but I decided to split it up for pacing and editing reasons. But I guarantee that it won't be more than 10 chapters now, so don't worry.  
> Also, a biiiiig shout out to my wonderful parabatai who had the patience of a saint to beta this.  
> Also also, there is a Sailor Moon reference here, but I promise it's okay for those who never watched it. 
> 
> EDIT: jndkjfdnfjkdn sorry, I've forgotten to mention something very important! Until now, I've been switching POVs between Magnus and Alec (something new I wanted to try). For this chapter and the next ones, this won't apply. The sections may contain either Alec's POV, Magnus', or another character's. I'm sorry for the sudden change, but I promise it's for the better.
> 
> I know today is a hard day for a lot of people. I'm not from US, but I'm from a country whose president is also a monster, so I understand all your fear and worry. I'm with you, praying for the best result. I hope this fluffy chapter may soothe you, even if just a little bit. Be strong!

The Witchlight Convention was a geek event that had been in growth for the past three years. Slowly yet steadily, it was gaining a lot of interest from both the public and the media. Its focus wasn’t only comics, games, movies, and series, but also fashion, technology and investment in small business. The runway wasn’t the only big event with a large amount of prize money; there was due to be a whole e-sports championship, too, with all different types of games – ranging from soccer games to shooting games, and even to Mario kart.

There was even going to be an archery competition that Magnus would have loved to see Alec attending, but unfortunately his boyfriend was already stressed enough with the arrangements for _The Runes_ ’ runway entry. While Alec hadn’t stopped overthinking since the moment they decided to enter, rehashing every possible scenario that could go wrong, Magnus had absolute faith in their team’s chances. After all, character design and costuming were his beloved’s field of expertise.

Magnus didn’t have any doubts that Alec was going to make everyone swoon over his creations, and with his company at stake, Alec would willingly burn himself to the ground to make sure nothing would be less than perfect.

That was a large factor in Magnus’ confidence, of course - but it was also why, after two weeks of incredibly hard work, Magnus had to plan an intervention. Alec had been so stressed out, his siblings couldn’t even bear to stay in the same room as him for more than ten minutes. He was _shaking,_ too, days of overworking and an unhealthy amount of coffee taking their toll.

“The boy is doing well, all things considered. You were worse when you first started,” Ragnor had told him one day, after witnessing firsthand how worked up Alec was during a visit to _The Runes_ ’ building. Magnus was too amused watching Alec yell something about a pie to Jace to feel offended by Ragnor’s jab.

So, that night he practically dragged Alec to his loft, tutting at every attempt his boyfriend made to protest this turn of events and go back to work.

“Give up, Alexander. Tonight it’s just a threesome between us, takeout from Taki’s and a relaxing bath. Work wasn’t invited. Maybe next time, if you are still _up_ for trying a couple of different types of ménage to this.”

Alec tried to scowl, he really did. But his expression broke into a grin, and then a full-on laugh.

“You really are ridiculous,” Alec stopped Magnus in his tracks for a moment and tiptoed to press a kiss to his lips. “God, I love you so much.”

“Not God, but I won’t object to _you_ worshipping me.” Magnus wiggled his eyebrows, teasing. Alec rolled his eyes, but the smile was still plastered on his face. 

“Where’s Max? I thought Clary was busy tonight?” Alec asked, now frowning a little at not seeing the littlest member of their household. Not that he had really _seen_ Max in the last few days, either, having too many things to do in preparation for the event. But he’d talked to him through the phone fairly regularly, and once Magnus had even video called him - because Max had refused to sleep without listening to one of Alec’s impromptu tales, and of course, they weren’t complete without the visual aspect, Alec’s hands waving freely in front of him and mapping out the scenes as they unfolded.

“Tessa,” Magnus grinned. “And her devoted duo, of course. It seems they wanted to… _practise_ for the future.”

“Oh…” Alec blinked in surprise for a moment, but then returned the grin. So, they were already planning that far? Well, he could relate. Sometimes it was terrifying to step forward, especially when said step was a big one, but some things in life were worth the fear and anticipation.

He absentmindedly glanced to Magnus’ left ring finger.

 _Maybe one day,_ he allowed himself to think.  
  


And like Magnus suggested, they had a nice dinner, followed by the best bath Alec had ever taken. While he soaked a little longer in the warm water, easing his sore back and shoulder muscles, Magnus left for the bedroom and took his sweet time there. Alec was almost dozing off by the time his boyfriend came back and coaxed him out of the water, and honestly thought they were just going to sleep; but as soon as his eyes landed on the dozens of scented candles, casting their warm glow and filling the room with a pleasant, relaxing scent, he couldn’t help the warmth pooling in his stomach.

It seemed like a set up for something more than sleeping, and, well. Every part of Alec was on board with _that._

They’d been together a while. It was nowhere near their first time. But something about the romantic tableau before him made Alec feel like a virgin teenager all over again, an eager anxiousness creeping over him. And Magnus seemed to have read his mind, approaching him at that very moment to whisper huskily,

“Could you be a good boy and lie on your belly? You can keep the towel.”

Oh, Alec was more than happy to oblige.

After retrieving an unfamiliar bottle from a drawer – Alec wondered if it was a new brand of lube - Magnus straddled his hips and sat comfortably there.

“Magnus?” Alec frowned a little. This was different from how they’d sat before-

“Hush, my love,” Magnus said softly, interrupting that train of thought. “Tonight I’m going to take care of you. You’ve been as tense as a board - or perhaps _ramrod straight_ would be a better description, and for there to be _anything_ straight about you, things are really wrong.” Magnus opened the bottle’s cap and poured a generous amount of massage oil on his hands.

Alec snorted at the bad joke - and then moaned as he felt Magnus’ hands on his shoulders, that glorious balance of pain and relief that came with soothing abused muscles. He bit his lower lip to try and keep from making more noises, but Magnus was right. He was so tense, everything ached so much, and his boyfriend’s hands were really magical-

Wait.

“Magnus,” he said, starting to push himself up in alarm, “you’re going to strain–”

“Ah-ah, no talking,” Magnus chided, firmly pushing Alec back down - easily, given his advantageous position. “This is not about me.”

“But your hands,” Alec said, still worried. “They were bothering you yesterday-”

“And today they’re not so bad,” Magnus assured him. “Alexander, I don’t mind a little bit of pain if it’s for something worthwhile, you know that. And this definitely qualifies. I know my limits, and I promise not to push them, so just let me take care of you? Please?”

Alec sighed, but gave in. And he might’ve been even more tired than he thought, because not even ten minutes later, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Magnus was very satisfied. Yes, his hands were throbbing painfully - and okay, maybe he _had_ pushed his limits, just a little. But how could he not? Cuddling Alexander for the rest of the night and seeing his relaxed expression, free of discomfort; that was worth everything.

~*~

There was a clause in the sponsorship terms and conditions stating that only financial help was allowed. Professional staff or equipment couldn’t be borrowed – everything had to belong to the company that was participating. 

Including the models. 

Izzy and Jace didn’t have a problem with that, of course. Even Simon accepted a role - albeit somewhat reluctantly. But Clary and Magnus were out, of course, and however much the latter gushed about the opportunity to see his _handsome boyfriend_ on a runway, Alec refused with the stubbornness of a mule, the immovability of a mountain. So instead, they got Lily and Maia on board too, both eagerly agreeing on one condition: that _they_ could choose which outfit to wear.

Lastly, they needed a child. Alec had considered asking his brother Max, but another Max quickly became the topic of conversation.

“Isn’t BatMax too young for that?” Jace asked, twirling a marker between his fingers, and thoroughly ignoring the paperwork Alec had most recently forced upon him.

“First of all, don’t give nicknames to my son,” Magnus said, and glared at him. “You’re already on thin ice with me, Blondie. I’m still mad at you for bundling him up inside a duffel bag and sneaking him out of the loft.” 

Jace gasped, his eyes wide and innocent. “I only wanted to take him to the park while you and Alec were busy!” he protested. “And he _loved_ being smuggled out. It was his idea!”

“And this is why you and Clary will probably need to wait ten years before having your own kid,” Alec pointed out, not taking his eyes off of the design he was putting the final touches on. “Kids have smart ideas and stupid ideas, and you’re no good at telling the difference.”

“Anyway,” Magnus said, waving a dismissive hand towards Jace and his indignance. “I don’t think it will be a problem for Max. You know he likes the attention–”

“Like you,” Raphael added, handing out the fabric samples to Clary and Isabelle. 

Magnus ignored him completely. “–and I’m sure he would _love_ to help,” he finished. “Even before he learned how to walk, he was crawling the rehearsal runway in our offices.” He smiled fondly. That was definitely one of his most precious memories of baby Max.

“I’m sure he’ll have a lot of fun,” Clary smiled. “He could have the character that was supposed to be Magnus’.”

“The warlock, right?” Simon asked.

“We could even create some kind of practical effect as if he has real magic!” Izzy clapped her hands together, grinning in excitement.

“How?” Jace frowned.

Magnus and Izzy exchanged a look, each raising an eyebrow.

“Glitter,” Izzy declared.

Magnus snickered, nodding in approval. It was the only reasonable answer. “There’s a reason you’re my second-favorite Lightwood.” 

Isabelle winked at him. “I mean, obviously.”

“Hey!” Jace protested.  
  


Alec, meanwhile, worked quietly on his designs - but he didn’t fight a fond smile.

Even with their worldly situation threatening to fall apart around them, he’d never felt so lucky in his life.

~*~

On the day of the event, everyone gathered to offer support to _The Runes_ ’ staff. Besides Alec, Izzy, Jace, Simon, Lily, and Maia, there was also Clary, Magnus, little Max, Catarina, Ragnor, and Raphael – despite the last two swearing that they were only there because Magnus had threatened them.

“I did no such thing!” Magnus insisted, narrowing his eyes at his two grumps, and being met with even bigger scowls in return.

“I wouldn’t mind so much, but if we _must_ be seen with you, I wish you weren’t wearing… _that,”_ Ragnor said with disgust, waving at Magnus’ (frankly glorious) ensemble.

Since Magnus couldn’t participate directly to help with the runway, and also didn’t want to draw attention to himself – because, well, he was _him,_ and that was apparently enough for opportunistic tabloids – he did what anyone sensible would do at a convention.

He cosplayed.

“You are…?” Ragnor narrowed his eyes.

Magnus gave a twirl, his cape flying out around his black suit, his cane coming to a staccato stop as he finished. “Tuxedo Mask, at your service,” he announced, tipping his top hat down over his white masquerade mask. He nodded in acknowledgment at the apparently-impressed con-goers who stopped to look at him - after all, with the mask on, _some_ attention was perfectly harmless - before offering the red rose he was holding in a white-gloved hand to Alec. “To my own protector of the moon, stars and all the sky above,” he said, well-aware that his smirk was undercutting the drama of the moment but unable to help it when Alec looked so shyly delighted. 

Clary _awwe_ _d_ softly, and Max giggled.

“Bapa is so silly,” he confided in the others.

“God, I’m going to throw up,” Raphael muttered - which earned him a light rap on the shin with Magnus’ cane, naturally.

Alec was still smiling softly, the rose petals brushing soft and shivery against his lips as he lifted it up to appreciate its scent.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his smile widening as Magnus’ did. 

He tucked the rose into the loose weave of his sweater, placing it above his heart like a brooch. After all, what could possibly be a better good luck charm than Magnus’ affection? 

~*~

When the announcement came that the runway event was about to begin, they split up; Alec and his team went backstage to get ready, while Magnus and the others from _Magnificent Fashion_ took to the back of the performance hall, where there was a small, slightly-raised seating area by the exit. Away from the main audience and with a view of the whole runway, it was the perfect place to watch the spectacle unfold in its entirety. 

While the first team showed its creations, Ragnor glanced over and realized with some concern how serious Magnus looked, how distracted.

“Uh-oh, I know that look,” he said grimly. “Who do we have to take down now?” He gave an exaggerated sigh.

Magnus grinned for a moment before his expression dropped once more into something somber.

“Maryse Lightwood mentioned an anonymous call regarding our investment in _The Runes,”_ he explained. “That information isn’t exactly public, and as much as they seem keen to ruin their children’s company now, I doubt they kept hugely diligent tabs on their work after the loan was provided. Otherwise, why wouldn’t they have come to cash in sooner?” Magnus’ teeth worried at his thumbnail a little, frowning thoughtfully. “Someone tipped them off. Someone with a clear intention of causing havoc.”

"And you already have someone in mind."

Magnus tilted his head in acknowledgment. "I wouldn't put it past daddy dearest to play dirty like that, especially after the attention Shinyun gave us in Paris."

Ragnor nodded, serious now. "All right. I'll look into it first thing tomorrow. But for now, put it out of your head, if you can." He smiled. “Family first, hmm?”

Magnus looked up in surprise - and then looked down at the plastic bow he was still holding, the one Alec had bought Max earlier in the day.

His expression softened.

"You’re right. Family first."

~*~

When _The Runes_ were introduced as the next contestant, Alec made his way to the podium next to the runway, frowned momentarily as he adjusted the mic upwards before giving a professional smile, introducing himself and the work of his company. From his seat at the back of the hall, Magnus smiled. Even though Alec didn’t particularly _like_ public attention, he certainly knew how to handle it with grace. He spoke with the confidence of a natural leader.

He briefly explained the concept of their game, and how they were currently working on the expansion that would lead players to a dark fae realm, and the option to join various factions of that world.

“Firstly, please welcome our representative from the Night Children, a group of undead with supernatural strength and speed. Our game offers several creative ways to collect different types of blood, and as you climb the ranks in vampire society, you may even earn yourself a rare item or two.”

Lily power-walked onstage to appreciative applause. Her attire was a far cry from the stereotypical vampire – there were no capes, no all-black outfit, not even any sparkly skin. Instead, her long hair was adorned with bright streaks of neon pink, the same shade as her lipstick. She was wearing knee-length burgundy jeans and a purple blouse; over that, there was a dramatic red wet-look gown made of pleather and spandex, which given a rough-and-tumble feel by its patchwork design, criss-crossing lace panel, large hood, and asymmetric sleeves. Obviously, the highlight was her proud smirk complete with fangs, which earned her a few delighted reactions from the audience.

“If you like to play in a group, however,” Alec continued, “the Moon Children are the faction for you. Loyal and fierce, they are perfect to play with friends - and who knows, you may even find a mate during our Full Moon multiplayer quests.” 

Lily and Maia passed each other, exchanging a decidedly unsubtle wink.

Alec almost huffed fondly. So much for vampires and werewolves being mortal enemies.

Maia wore dark green ripped and distressed jeans, ankle boots, and a white shirt that shimmered with different colors depending on the light, looking almost as if the fabric itself was in constant transformation. She’d accessorized with a studded leather belt hung with large rings and draping chains, and a black leather jacket with patched up rips, the shimmering material just peeking through in some places. Maia even wore gleaming green contact lenses, showcasing the intimidating power of an alpha, the commanding gaze of a pack leader.

“For those who revel in mystery and want to control the power of nature, good news: the Seelie court is in session.”

Isabelle strode out, her gait dainty but sure and powerful. Her black hair was silky-smooth and unfathomably shiny, contrasting beautifully with the pastel flowers woven into it. She wore a strapless ball gown, its beaded lace bodice matched with a beaded belt. Voluminous tiers of tulle were layered throughout the skirt, varying from peach to baby blue, from lilac to mint green. 

She received a few wolf-whistles, and turned to their source with a sharp grin. Polite, appreciative even - yet enough to put them off, apparently. She looked delicate and dangerous all at once, a rose unafraid of her bloodthirsty thorns.

“Our next entry is my personal favorite,” Alec said with a fond smile, which only widened when his eyes met Magnus’. “Please welcome one of the most powerful magicians in the realm.”

As any excited child would, Max practically sprinted onto the runway, smiling and laughing and throwing blue and gold glitter up in the air. A wave of ‘aww’s echoed through the audience. In addition to his black jeans and lavender satin shirt, Max had a pair of blue bat wings on his back and two small horns on his head - his ‘warlock mark’, as Alec explained, inherited from his demonic parent. He also had a pretty blue face painting - a process which he’d sat through with copious giggles as Clary worked on it.

“But remember that this magical world is no paradise - you must always beware of the enemy,” Alec’s voice cautioned, as Max ran offstage. “Don’t let their appearances deceive you - demons are as cunning as they are deadly.”

Simon was, perhaps, the clumsiest demon to ever exist - his suave appearance somewhat undermined when he got caught in the curtain on his way out to the runway - but his charms still won the audience over pretty quickly. He wore a white tuxedo with peak lapels over a blood-red shirt, and a crown of bronze vines and thorns. With the final touch - namely, the hollow stare of his pitch-black contact lenses - the overall impression was intimidating, even on him.

“Luckily, the angels haven’t forgotten us,” Alec said with a smile. “They’ve sent their children to fight for the realm and its people.”

That was Jace’s cue, and he stalked onstage as an angel warrior. Despite what one might expect from the heavenly ancestry of his character, he wore an all-black set; leather pants, a slim-fit tee, a leather sleeveless jacket, and sturdy-looking combat boots. His thigh holster carried his glowing ‘seraph blade’, and his exposed arms and neck bore several of the Lightwoods’ childhood runes, marked in dark red like tattooed burns. On his back, however, fluttered the real showstopper - a beautiful pair of golden wings, crafted of lightweight wire and painstakingly-feathered silk. They were an impressive sight, and worthy of the acclaim they carried - as Alec explained, only the highest-level players would have their characters' wings turn golden.

Magnus couldn’t help but think that Alec would have been a great example of an angelic warrior too. Maybe with a different weapon – he said he liked archery, so a bow would be perfect – and definitely a more discreet color. He was certain Alec would hate all that gold, and besides, it would look terribly gaudy with his cooler coloring. Maybe silver? It was a rarer metal than gold, though few people knew that, and was criminally underrated in Magnus’ opinion.

Aside from those adjustments, though...

“Stop smiling like that. It’s creeping me out,” Ragnor chastised him.

“Apologies, my dear cabbage. I was just caught up in my imaginings. Tell me - do you think I could convince Alexander to wear that kind of thigh holster on our next date night?” He smirked. “Preferably with nothing else?”

Raphael made a gagging sound, and Ragnor groaned. “Dear God, stop. My ears are bleeding.”

Catarina huffed, though it sounded decidedly amused. “You do know that I’m recording the runway, right?” 

“Naturally, my dear,” Magnus said airily. In fact, he was rather counting on it. 

After all, if you wanted your boyfriend to surprise you, it was best to drop hints where he’d be sure to hear them.

~*~

“A penny for your thoughts?” Magnus asked softly, brushing some of Alec’s unruly hair away from his forehead.

They were all waiting for the results of the runway event. It seemed to be taking forever, and the tension in the room was creeping higher and higher, agitated murmurs filling the hall.

Alec opened his mouth to reply, then immediately closed it without a sound, his jaw working for a moment as his arms folded across his chest defensively. 

He let out a deep breath. “Our time is almost up. If we don’t get this money… I don’t see how we’ll be able to save the company.”

“If this doesn’t work - which it still might,” Magnus pointed out, “then we’ll figure something else out.” He ran his hands up and down Alec’s arms in a gentle, soothing friction. “Don’t lose hope, Alexander. You all worked so hard for this, and all of your clothes were amazing. If I didn’t know how much you love the job you have, I’d be trying to snatch you up as a full-time designer for my company. There’s a lot of talent in these hands of yours.” Saying that, he lifted each one gently to his lips - and then winked. “Then again, I already knew that from… _personal_ experience, shall we say,” he teased. 

Alec snorted, looking thoroughly unimpressed, but Magnus didn’t miss how his shoulders loosened a bit, and so he just smiled all the wider. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“May I have your attention, please?” The announcer of the event suddenly called, and all the tension was immediately back in Alec’s bearing, as well as across the hall in general. “First of all, we’d like to congratulate all of the participants,” the announcer said with a honeyed smile. “Your creations were marvelous, and have certainly made this a memorable convention. But of course, there can only be one winner.” Their face turned deadly serious, and a hush fell throughout the hall. “If you’ll all direct your attention to the screen, I can now reveal that the winning company - and the recipient of three-hundred thousand dollars - is…”

They paused dramatically - and a name flashed up on the big screen.

**Thule Corporation**

“The Thule Corporation!” the announcer crowed. “Congratulations!”

 _Oh_ , Magnus thought numbly. _This is how it feels when your heart breaks for someone else._

He tried to reach out to his boyfriend, to offer comfort - but Alec jerked away, his face fallen, still in shock. Magnus swallowed back the hurt, instinctively averting his gaze. 

And immediately finding _quite_ the distraction. “It’s a fucking fix!” someone near the front of the stage yelled; and they were hardly the only one. Protests had started to arise everywhere throughout the hall, murmured dissent and crowds of _boo_ s and calls of _fix_ and _rigged_ and _cheat._

The announcer quickly made an excuse - tripping over their words, clearly wanting to get the hell out of there - and practically ran backstage. 

Now that the initial blow of devastation was wearing off, the wheels in Magnus’ head were starting to turn. He frowned as he tried to make sense of the chaos erupting around them, all while the representatives from the Thule Corporation...

He sucked in a sharp breath. Of course. That one, the CFO, still in his costume except for the helmet. Magnus had seen that face before - when he was researching the sponsor of the event, digging up all he could on this ‘Queen’ whose taste and judgment could have proved all-important to the results. Her son was apparently the close acquaintance of a man called Janus; and it was that same man who was now standing just to the left of the stage, celebrating with his colleagues. 

The _Thule Corporation_ had been a last-minute, unknown entry. And their CFO just _happened_ to be close to the Queen’s son? 

The angry part of the audience was right. It had to be a fix. Not that _Thule_ ’s work wasn’t good – although the graphic use of fake blood in all of their creations had been a bit disturbing, they were solid costumes. But there were far better competitors here today, and not just _The Runes,_ either.

Magnus glanced around the group - Jace and Clary were having a whispered conversation, Jace’s posture curled over until he could rest his forehead against hers, her fingers cradling his face while he trembled minutely. To the left of them, Simon caressed Izzy’s hair, her face hidden against his chest. “Hey, we’re the good guys, remember?” he joked, his voice gentle. “We can still do this. We’re due for a plot twist any minute, I know it.”

To the right, Max was hugging Alec’s neck like a koala, telling him not to be sad. Alec held him just as tightly, but he didn’t answer, and Magnus’ throat worked for a moment.

Finally, Magnus found who he was looking for. “Ragnor,” he murmured, and they exchanged a brief glance - and that was all that was needed. Ragnor nodded at him, clearly having reached the same conclusion. Something wasn't right, and the moment they got out of here, they were going to prove it. Magnus would sue the whole damn Fairyland Group if he had to. 

But then again, he realized, as the curtains to backstage parted briefly - maybe the court of public opinion would do it for him. 

“Excuse me, everyone,” the announcer called, striding back onstage with a cheery - if slightly nervous - smile, gradually silencing all the chatter and restlessness in the auditorium. “I’ve just returned from a consultation with our generous Queen, and I have fantastic news!” They gave a showman’s grin. “Her Majesty was so impressed with all the beautiful creations today, that she has decided to extend the prizes. Please direct your attention to the screen once more!”

Magnus ignored that for the moment, instead stepping forward and reaching for Alec again, and having his hand captured in a steel grip.

Only then did he look up at the screen - just in time for the new results to flash into place.  
  


**1** **st** **– Thule Corporation ($500,000)**

 **2** **nd** **– The Runes ($250,000)**

 **3** **rd** **– Wild Hunt Entertainment ($100,000)**

  
  
The auditorium practically _exploded._

Jace was shouting, Izzy let out a shriek and leaped into Simon’s arms - around them, people cheered and applauded and yelled their congratulations, a wave of righteous joy spreading throughout the crowd. 

Magnus turned back to Alec, pivoting him easily in his shock, bracing him gently in his arms as Max ran circles around them, cheering. “You did it, sweetheart,” Magnus said quietly, breathlessly, ducking down to meet his boyfriend’s wide eyes. “That’s nearly half the money. You can _do_ this.” 

Alec nodded, clearly still a little dazed. “We can do this,” he parroted, his voice soft and wondering. “We’ve still got a chance.”

Magnus nodded back, his expression spreading helplessly into a grin as he pulled Alec into his arms. 

_You’ve still got a chance, and I’m gonna make damn sure it works out._

~*~ 

“This is my offer for your fairy outfit,” the lady in front of them declared, holding out a check with one elegant hand whilst her preteen-looking daughter bounced a little in anticipation just behind her. Jace and Izzy gathered around Alec to see her offer too, and three pairs of eyes widened comically.

Jace whistled lowly, and Alec elbowed him, but privately agreed. Those zeros were very, very good.

“I think we’re all in agreement - it’s yours,” Alec said, his siblings nodding either side of him. It was the third outfit from their collection they’d successfully sold. Alec knew the outfits were very pretty, and how much effort had gone into them - but he still hadn’t expected the _eagerness_ of their newfound customers, how incredibly generous they were with their offers.

Magnus was less surprised, of course. After all, they were sponsored by _Magnificent Fashion_. There was a reason his house was so successful. 

(And, if he’d asked Raphael and Clary to spread the word that whoever bought one of the outfits would also receive a generous discount on the upcoming spring collection… Well. What Alec didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.)

The one item that wasn’t for sale was Max’s set of bat wings. They’d had some extravagant offers, of course; but Max had looked so crestfallen at the realization that he had to give them up, it had apparently been impossible for Alec to accept a deal.

“I know it could make a difference for us, but I can’t do that to him,” he’d eventually explained. 

Magnus’ heart had swelled with affection.

Later, after they'd done all they could for the day - every item available had been sold, every piece of gear and prop had been packed away - they all scattered to enjoy the last hours of the convention. 

Alec led Magnus and Max straight to the food court, because it was well past lunchtime and only Max had eaten since breakfast, munching on the apple slices and crackers in his backpack after his stint onstage. Soon enough, though, their corner table was laden with corndogs, French fries, pizza, milkshakes - and even a slice of Max's favorite chocolate pie, big enough for all three of them to share.

Once they'd eaten, Magnus took Max to a booth where they were making 3D-printed action figures, while Alec stepped away for a moment to buy a limited edition comic he knew his brother Max would love. He'd mentioned that once the debt to Robert and Maryse was smoothed over, he might be able to see him again soon. Magnus certainly hoped that was the case - it would take a complete moron not to realize how much Alec cared about his brother. 

When the three of them reunited, it wasn't the expected Batman that Max pulled out from where he'd squirreled it away in his rucksack - it was something smaller, and more distinctive, and it was being presented to Alec right that moment by careful chubby fingers and a beaming grin.

“For you!” Max said with pride. “Because your clothes were the best. My wings were the best."

Alec reached out and took the gift with a quiet thank-you, and Magnus managed to get a better look as he did - and immediately, his own expression shifted into a fond smile. It was a miniature copy of the trophy from the runway event. This one, though, had been mounted on a little pedestal with a ‘#1’ printed on it.

Magnus glanced back up at Alec - and he noticed how shiny his eyes had suddenly become, of course, but he didn't mention it. 

After all, it had been an emotional day. With Max bringing the big guns out like that, Alec's stoicism hadn't stood a chance. 

~*~

Thanks to the convention, they had gathered just over three-hundred and thirteen thousand dollars. The next day - five days before the deadline - they met at _The Runes_ to try and come up with the rest. 

Jace frowned at the screen. "Wait, this is more than I thought it would be." 

"I had a few savings I added in," Alec said nonchalantly. It wasn't a big deal, after all - his plan to buy a car could wait. The jewelry he'd planned to get for Magnus as a birthday gift, too; plus, he'd make do without takeout or offering up more extravagant dates for a while. Hopefully, Magnus would be okay with simple strolls through the park.

Isabelle smiled. "Beat me to it," she said, putting her phone away and leaning over to refresh the page. "I withdrew this into my current account this morning. Figured it'd help."

Alec's eyes widened as the number jumped upwards. “Izzy, no. You've been waiting for ages to take that design course, you don't have to give that up; we'll find another way, I'll... I'll...”

“Chill, Alec," Jace interrupted - to Alec's dismay, now tapping away on his own phone. "It’s our choice. We started this mess, after all.”

“But–”

“Look, man, you're not the only one working for _The Runes_ , yeah?” Simon added. "We can do our bit, we're part of the company too."

“Or part of the family,” Clary amended, smiling.

Alec let out a deep breath. "Okay," he conceded. "So, as for the rest-"

"Not quite yet, darling," Magnus said. "I-" 

"No," Alec said firmly. "We talked about this. You've already done so much, we can't-" 

"I hear you," Magnus appeased, but then he gave a sly smile. "Unfortunately, my colleagues weren't quite so easily convinced." 

Alec warily refreshed the page. 

Izzy laughed out loud. "Holy shit, Magnus!" 

Holy shit indeed, Alec thought weakly. Ragnor, Catarina, Raphael, Tessa, Will, Jem, even some other names from _Magnificent Fashion_. These weren't members of _The Runes_ or the Lightwood family - these were people who didn’t have to help at all, no loyalty driving their kindness. 

Alec swore to himself he would pay them back somehow - if not in money, then in some other way. He'd work thrice as hard if that's what it took.

The surprises weren’t over, however - Max was insistently tugging on the hem of Magnus’ jacket. “Now?” he asked in a stage whisper. 

Magnus chuckled. “Okay. Go ahead, Blueberry.” 

Max nodded solemnly, and strode forward, backpack in hand. “Here!” he declared, proudly taking out his piggybank and depositing it on Alec’s lap. “I help too.”

Alec stared down at the blue porcelain pig in his lap, and then back up at Max. He swallowed hard. “Thank you, Max,” he said softly. 

He glanced disapprovingly at Magnus as Max turned away - but Magnus merely shrugged, that infuriating smile still on his face. “Clary did set the precedent for family helping out,” he pointed out.

And, well. Alec was far too busy having his heart melted to contradict that.

The rest of the meeting went quickly, the official members of _The Runes_ brainstorming various options they had to raise the rest of the money - mostly, which technology and intellectual property they could sell whilst ensuring they still had a business at the end of it - while the others listened in and offered occasional advice. 

The room cleared, and after accepting a quick kiss goodbye from Alec and watching him round the corner, Magnus gently took Clary to one side, lingering in the conference room for a moment. “Can I borrow you for a minute, biscuit?”

“Yeah, sure.” She smiled up at him. “What’s up?” 

The door had closed behind Jace, leaving them alone in the room except for Max, but Magnus dropped his voice anyway. “I need you to get a message to the others - without Alec finding out about it.” 

Her eyes widened briefly, but her smile tugged even further upwards in amusement. “I’m guessing you’ve got a plan he wouldn’t approve of.”

“Likely not,” Magnus agreed with a grin. “I just need two days. Don’t let them finalize any sales in the meantime, all right?” 

Clary nodded. “I’ll spread the word.” And she swanned out of the room, presumably in search of her first confidant. 

  
Five minutes later, Elias was pulling out of the parking lot, and Magnus was already on the phone. “Ragnor, would you send over the details of our contacts along both the Sunset Strip and the Magnificent Mile?” He winked at Max, smiling widely at the giggle he got in response. “I have an exclusive offer I think they’d be _most_ interested in.” 

~*~

Three days later, after dropping Max at kindergarten, Magnus waltzed into Alec’s office with coffees and pastries in hand. “Good morning, darling,” he greeted happily, depositing his wares a little ceremoniously on the desk. “How are things going?”

“Not great,” Alec admitted, giving a distracted smile as he returned Magnus’ kiss on the cheek. “After the meeting a couple days ago, I thought we were all on the same page with which concepts and tech to sell off, but then Izzy and Jace started arguing over which ones were more valuable, and when we _finally_ reached a compromise the options we’d settled on turned out to be tied up in pre-existing contracts, and-” He cut himself off, dragging his hands through his hair and turning back to Magnus with a slightly grim-sounding laugh. “God, it’s just... it’s like the universe is conspiring against us at the final hurdle, you know?” 

Magnus hummed, quelling the pang of guilt with a sip of excellent coffee and a stern mental reminder of what he was carrying in his breast pocket. “Maybe not so much the universe as a slightly Machiavellian boyfriend,” he admitted. 

Alec’s expression twisted in confusion. “What?” 

In answer, Magnus put down his coffee and pulled the slip of paper from his pocket, leaning forward and offering it with one hand, his other hand reaching out to take Alec’s. “Tech is one thing, but your company’s ideas are its lifeblood,” he explained quietly. “I didn’t want you to be forced into giving them up. Not when there was another way.”

Alec took the paper, and Magnus could tell the exact moment he recognized the check for what it was, because he shook his head. “Magnus, no,” he said, sounding almost angry. “No, even you can’t afford to take this kind of sudden hit to your savings-”

“I agree,” Magnus interrupted. “Which is why less than half of that comes from my savings.” Not _much_ less than half, but what was the point of statistics if you couldn’t use them to your advantage? 

Alec frowned, but he leaned back, apparently somewhat appeased. “Then... where did the rest of the money come from?”

“I reached out to some friends in L.A. and Chicago - boutique owners, personal stylists; people who are always interested in obtaining high-quality, exclusive items of clothing to offer their clientele,” Magnus explained. He smirked. “Items such as those in my personal collection.” 

Alec wasn’t smiling, however. He looked faintly horrified. “You sold your own clothes?” he asked, his voice low and disbelieving. 

“I did,” Magnus confirmed. “And in addition to the money, I received something of a nice ego boost, by the way. Apparently, some time in the last few years I’ve become successful enough that my having owned them is a selling point, to some, rather than reason for a discount.” 

If Alec processed his joking manner, he didn’t react to it, his expression still serious and a little stunned. “You didn’t have to do that-”

Magnus sighed loudly, rounding the desk and perching on Alec’s side of it. “Alexander, I think you’ve said those words more in the past seventy-two hours than most people say them in a lifetime. I know I didn’t _have_ to. I _wanted_ to. I wanted to protect an investment I believe in, and save a company I respect, and support the one I love.” He claimed both of Alec’s hands in his own, and let his smile relax into something amused once more. “Besides, you’ve seen my closet. I have a lot of clothes. Truth be told, I was in serious need of giving some away - otherwise, how on earth would I have space for next season’s offerings?”

Alec's thoughts screeched to a halt. He blinked hard, trying to process one specific word Magnus said and totally ignoring the rest.

"You love me?" He asked almost tentatively, eyes full of hope. Although what both felt was pretty obvious, they never used _the words_. And okay, Magnus liked to call him 'my love' sometimes, but Alec always thought it was just another term of endearment his boyfriend liked so much to use.

"You silly boy, why else I am here? My place is by your side as long as you'll have me."

 _Forever then_ almost slipped from Alec's lips. Thankfully, by that point, Alec’s brain appeared to have properly computed the rest of Magnus’ news; when he shook his head once more, it wasn’t in denial, but something that looked more like fond exasperation. “What am I going to do with you?” he breathed.

Well, that was certainly too good an opening to ignore. “Oh, I can think of some _wonderful_ answers to that,” Magnus purred. “But how about starting with a kiss?” 

And finally, Alec laughed, before standing up to grant Magnus’ request.

One kiss turned into two, then three, then a lot more. When they finally separated to breathe for a moment, Alec couldn't help but whisper reverently.

"I love you, too."

Half an hour later, they’d deposited the check, and the screen readout announced a final total of five-hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. Alec looked to be on the verge of relieved tears, and Magnus wasn’t that far off either. 

Because they’d done it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, who is ready for some more Lightwood drama? Because Alec has _words_.


	9. Violet - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, everyone! This one is a rollercoaster, so...
> 
> Oops?

Alec, Magnus, Izzy, and Jace were in Alec’s office at _The Runes,_ awaiting the arrival of Robert and Maryse. The tension was palpable, but hopefully, it would all be over as quickly as possible. Knowing his boyfriend’s stress levels, Magnus had already planned a whole afternoon out with everyone at Coney Island, during which the word “work” would be totally forbidden. Max had even been brought along, so they could go straight there after the meeting. He was currently waiting in the playroom next door with Clary and Simon, of course – and for the first time, the intercom was even turned off. None of them wanted Max to hear any of the eldest Lightwoods’ inevitable unpleasantness.

When Maryse and Robert finally arrived, Alec didn’t waste time.

“Here, your check.” Alec pushed the paper across the desk without looking, his eyes instead locked on his parents’ piercing gaze. “That’s all of it - including interest for this past grace month. We don’t owe you a cent anymore.” He took a breath, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. “But I hope you will still allow Max to visit us.”

Maryse scoffed.

“Why would I let my son keep in touch with you?”

Alec felt his expression twist in irritation. “Because if you don’t, I will go to the media,” he said calmly. “Robert is campaigning right now, isn’t he? Throwing himself behind just enough left-wing issues to appeal across the aisle, last I heard. The media will have a field day if they ever learn you kicked out your eldest son for being gay, and then what do you think happens to those liberal votes you need?”

Heavy silence fell on the room, and Alec prayed they couldn’t hear his heart thundering.

Robert’s mouth tightened. “Are you threatening us?” he asked lowly. 

“Take it whichever way you want,” Alec said. “But I won’t let you two pollute Max’s mind with all your prejudice.”

Maryse scowled. “This is ridiculous,” she declared. “Nobody will believe you!”

“They will,” Isabelle chimed in, her eyes blazing. “Because it won’t just be Alec. I’ll give my testimony.”

“Me too,” Jace added, folding his arms across his chest.

Robert shook his head, an infuriating smile on his face. “It won’t work,” he claimed. “You’re still just three bitter kids; you could be sulking that your credit cards were canceled by Mommy and Daddy as far as anyone knows. Why would they believe you?”

“You might have a point,” Magnus said mildly, “if you hadn’t been so careless as to let _me_ see the content of your characters.” He stepped around the corner of the desk and laid a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Unfortunately for you, I’m well-known, well-respected, and would happily back up any horrible truth the three of them went public with.” He snorted. “I’d _love_ to see you claim that it’s because you canceled _my_ credit card.” 

Robert just glared at him, but Maryse narrowed her eyes. “So, the rumors are true.”

“What rumors?” Alec asked, frowning.

Maryse sneered. “That the _upstanding_ Mr. Bane is just another sugar daddy. I didn’t doubt it for a moment, even if it did apparently come from a jealous ex - but even I’m surprised that it’s _you,_ Alec.” She fixed him with a look of pure disgust. “This is lower than I thought you’d ever stoop.” 

Alec’s jaw clenched hard, and he leaned back a little into Magnus’ grounding touch. “Unsurprisingly, that’s bullshit,” he gritted out, “but it doesn’t matter. I don’t give a damn about your high-society gossip. We love each other, and the people who really matter know that.” 

“He’s _fifteen years_ your senior,” Robert said with some revulsion. “It’s _perverse-_ ”

“Leave it, Robert.” Maryse’s voice was grim. “There’s no point. It’s clear that Mr. Bane’s… _influence_ has gone too far already.” Her gaze had strayed down to Alec’s nails, which were painted in sparkly black. It wasn’t usually his thing; but Max had been so excited to give his nail-painting skills a go, and Magnus had neatened them up afterwards with such gentleness, that the finished result made Alec smile whenever he looked at them. It was almost bizarre that Maryse’s reaction could be so opposite to that. 

Alec rolled his eyes. “Alright, enough of this. If you’re quite finished, I suggest you leave.” He gave a tight smile, and couldn’t quite help the thread of anger that came through next. “Or I’m happy to call security.” Of course, that would be if no one in this room snapped first, and threw them out personally. The three people at Alec’s back certainly seemed close to it.

Robert gave a put-upon sigh. “You’ll understand one day,” he said regretfully. “When you have kids of your own.”

For some reason, that was the last straw.

Alec pushed up to his feet. “No, I _already_ understand,” he snarled, “and I will make goddamn sure to be everything you two weren’t. To show them that I’ll love and support them no matter what, that they can come to me with anything. It’s not some hypothetical to me – it’s a commitment, and it’s one that I’ve already made to Max.”

 _“His_ son?” Maryse said, gesturing to Magnus in disbelief. “It was bad enough that he’d gotten you involved in his _dalliances,_ but now he’s got you parenting a child that isn’t even _yours-_ ”

“Maybe not officially, but if he and Magnus asked for that, I’d jump at the chance.” At that, Maryse and Robert stood, scandalized protests on their lips. Alec just snorted. “I would! Because I _love_ him, and whatever he wants from his life, I’m behind him one-hundred percent. When he grows up, if he wants to date, he can date any gender he wants – hell, he can _be_ any gender he wants. He can wear what he wants, get any job that he wants, and if he wants to do it all in makeup like his bapa wears? Then he can have the best damn makeup I can get my hands on, because that’s what parents are _supposed_ to do!” he yelled. “They’re supposed to love their child unconditionally! Not control them, and _not_ toss them aside for being who they are!”

He rounded the desk, giving a little smirk of satisfaction despite his lingering fear. He’d grown taller than his parents by the time he was fifteen, but looming over them at that moment was the first time he’d felt like it. “You have your money,” he growled. “And I think we all know it’s for the best that our paths don’t cross again. Either you’ll let us see Max or you won’t, and nothing I say at this point is gonna change your mind.” He nodded towards the door. “So we’re done here. Get out of my office. And stay the fuck away from my family.” 

When the door slammed this time, Alec barely flinched.

~*~

The playroom at _The Runes_ was smaller and simpler than the one at _Magnificent Fashion_. It didn’t have a minifridge or fancy toys - but it was warm and comfortable, full of fluffy pillows and blankets. The walls were covered with huge sheets of tearaway paper so anyone could draw or paint on them, there were comic books and coloring books, and even a fair-sized toy chest filled with sock puppets and Pokémon plushies.

And if there were _also_ some mini bats hanging from the ceiling like a permanent Halloween decoration, well… nobody would dare call Alec out for being biased towards Max.

The same Max who was happily playing with Clary and Simon, building a tall tower with colorful blocks. Magnus and Alec had been watching them in silence for a while, staying discreetly at the door to avoid disturbing the light-hearted mood; but seeing how his boyfriend was still frowning in worry, how tense he still was, Magnus gently pulled him further into the hallway – and into a tight embrace.

Alec let out a breath. “Magnus, about Max, I’m sorry if I overst—”

“Hush, my love. You did no such thing.” Magnus kissed his forehead, smiling fondly. “You said nothing I wasn’t already thinking, I assure you.”

It was like all of that tension left Alec’s body at once, and he was finally able to breathe properly since his parents’ visit.

Unbeknownst to them, they weren’t the only two thinking along those lines.

That night, while putting Max to bed, Alec read a story for him and Magnus sang one of the Indonesian lullabies he still knew by heart.

“Goodnight, my Blueberry.”  
“Goodnight, Max.”

“Night, Bapa,” Max mumbled, already halfway asleep. “Night, Daddy.”

Alec froze.

_What?_

He turned to Magnus, blinking hard. “Did he…”

Magnus nodded, a fond smile on his face and his eyes turning shiny as he stepped forward and cupped Alec’s face in his hands. “Come on,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Alec’s lips. “We should let our boy get some sleep.”

 _Our boy,_ Alec thought, still a little dazed as Magnus led him from the bedroom. Maybe it was too fast by some standards, but why should they care about that? There was no fear, no apprehension – just hope.

More than anything, it simply felt _right._

~*~

“...I’m sorry, _what?”_

“I’m going to ask Alec to marry me,” Magnus repeated calmly. 

His friends gaped, each one leveling a slightly different incredulous gaze at him. Magnus knew these three like the back of his hand, so it wasn’t difficult to read what those looks meant.

 _You’ve finally lost it, haven’t you?_ came in all caps from Raphael.

 _It hasn’t even been two years. Why the rush?_ written in strong, cursive letters across Ragnor’s frown.

 _Are you sure?_ glaring back at him from Catarina’s worried eyes.

They’d finally found the time for a drinks night just between the four of them, this time held in Ragnor’s carriage house on the Upper East Side. It was a lovely place, comfortable but with a hint of antiquity that was very Ragnor. And in addition to carrying the unique feeling of centuries had gone by outside, it also provided a small, quiet haven amidst the crowds of New York. The back of the building was the one modern feature, a surprisingly unobtrusive wall of glass and steel that reached across the stories and supported the stairs that led to a rooftop terrace. That terrace was their location of choice for the night, seated in the small garden area around a Victorian-inspired patio table.

It was a good change of scene, Magnus thought appreciatively. Alec and his siblings had taken Max to watch one of the animated superhero movies that were still in the theaters, and afterwards they planned to head back to the Lightwoods’ apartment to play Pokémon - giving Magnus plenty of time to enjoy the evening with his friends.

His friends who were still looking at him like he’d grown a second head. 

“Are you having a mid-life crisis again?” Raphael asked. “I know you’re turning forty soon, but it’s not like you’re dying.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes at Raphael - who blatantly ignored it, holding his gaze and continuing to drink his Bloody Mary without any remorse for his cheek. 

“Magnus, are you _sure?”_ Cat asked seriously, interrupting the beginnings of their staring contest _._ “The last time you decided to propose…” She hesitated. They’d all been there to witness Magnus’ breakdown, and he couldn’t really blame them for not wanting to see another.

But, “Alexander is nothing like Camille,” Magnus reminded her. “Actually, comparing him to her is almost offensive.” He reached for the whiskey bottle, serving himself another helping. “He is not a pathological liar, he is not a cheater, and he is not allergic to the word ‘love’.”

“A word which you only _said_ a matter of weeks ago,” Raphael pointed out dryly. “Which I know for a fact, because you wouldn’t shut up about it.” 

Magnus returned to glaring at him. “Okay, so maybe neither of us are the best at expressing ourselves,” he retorted. “No one’s without their baggage. I assure you, we both _felt_ love a long time before the word itself came up.”

“We all know that,” Ragnor cut in, an unusual softness to his voice despite his sardonic smile. “One would have to be a moron to miss it. He seems to truly care about you, and the way he acts around Max is nothing short of heartwarming.” He shook his head. “But you’ve always been someone who falls hard and fast, Magnus. We just want to make sure you aren’t getting ahead of yourself.”

Magnus took a deep breath, holding back his instinctive, defensive answer. He understood where his friends were coming from, after all, and he genuinely was grateful to have them looking out for him. 

But Magnus was certain about this next step. Yes, it was early by some standards - but somehow, it didn’t feel rushed. They fit together so well; it usually felt as if they had been together for many, many years. 

He was certain Alec was _it_ for him.

He knew it was the right thing.

He smiled, sitting back in his chair. “After so many years searching, it’s like I can finally _rest,”_ he tried to explain. “Alec _fits -_ with me, with my life, with my son. I’ve never felt that kind of… of _rightness_ before. Not just love, but real... contentment? Security, perhaps.” He shrugged. “Whatever this feeling is, I trust it. I trust _him._ I promise, I know what I’m doing.”

And just as he was able to read his friends, he knew that they were able to do the same to him.

And he had no doubt that right now, his peaceful expression was broadcasting loud and clear.

_Alexander makes me happy._

~*~

“But Bapa, you have lotsa rings!” Max exclaimed, opening his arms wide to make his point and nearly knocking into an earring display case. “Why do you want more?”

Magnus smiled, ducking in to tickle his son’s unguarded belly. Max squirmed, laughing and trying to grab Magnus’ fingers to stop him. Something of a noisy endeavor for a hoity-toity jewelry shop, and it earned them a couple of disapproving looks from other customers, but Magnus was too happy to give a damn. They weren’t being _that_ loud, and if they weren’t hurting anyone, who cared about what some random snobs thought? 

“I need another ring, Blueberry,” he started to explain, “because this time, it’s a very important ring. I need it for when I ask Alexander a very important question next week.” He smiled. “That’s why I brought you here with me. It’s our mission today to find the ring that will make Alec the happiest, okay?” He winked.

Max, however, immediately seemed to decide that this was _serious_ \- he nodded solemnly, before turning to a box showcasing several pairs of engagement rings and beginning to scrutinize them. They were all beautiful, but most of them were too ostentatious, and Magnus knew Alec would appreciate something simpler; so he left Max to his deliberations and went in search of a different display.

His browsing did eventually yield some promising results, and he was going back and forth between a pair of braided silver bands and a pair with delicately engraved little flames - when Max suddenly tugged at his sleeve. 

“Bapa, come look,” he said with a note of awe in his excited voice, leading Magnus over to another display case. 

And Magnus gasped at what he saw.

It was a pair of platinum rings, each embedded with a very small stone – one a pretty blue azurite, the other a shiny tiger’s eye. 

“Your eyes and Alec’s eyes,” Max explained proudly. 

Magnus nodded, blinking hard against sudden tears. “That’s right, Blueberry,” he whispered. 

They were _perfect._

Magnus didn’t even bother asking the price. He simply asked the attendant to ring them up, and moments later, he and Max were leaving with their purchase.

“Good?” Max asked, bouncing excitedly.

“Very good,” Magnus agreed, picking Max up and hugging him tightly.

~*~

“Yes, and the three-set dessert. That butterscotch pie of yours - the one with the toasted marshmallow on top? - that’ll be _perfect_ to end the night.”

A knock on his door forced Magnus to glance up, distracting him from the phone call for a moment. He nodded to Ragnor, who entered silently and closed the door behind him.

“Right, and you’re certain you can have everything set up by seven-thirty tomorrow? ...All right, excellent. Forgive the paranoia, it’s just something of an important dinner, you know? ...Excellent. Thank you.” He ended the call, letting out a relieved breath.

“Proposal dinner?” Ragnor asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Proposal dinner,” Magnus confirmed, grinning.

Ragnor feigned a long-suffering sigh, but his smile was warm when he looked back at Magnus. “I’m happy for you, my friend.”

Magnus smiled even wider - then sobered, clasping his hands and sitting forward. “What did you find?”

“All of our suspicions about this ‘Queen’ were correct,” Ragnor said, taking a seat. “She plays the game from all sides, as long as it’s beneficial to her. Since her business is already spread so widely across different sectors, and she appears to take some adjustment time between each move, I don’t believe she’ll be entering our industry imminently - but I would say it’s still worthwhile to keep an eye on her.”

Magnus nodded. “We’ll do that, then. What about my father? Any word on his suspected involvement?”

“Everything points to you being right on that front, too,” Ragnor said, his face twisting in clear disdain. Magnus always thought that was somewhat amusing, as Ragnor had never actually met the man. It was nice to have the support, though. “It was indeed his call that tipped off the elder Lightwoods,” Ragnor continued. “His intentions are still unclear, however, so regrettably it’s nigh-on impossible to predict his next step.”

Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to not let his dread get the better of him. “I don’t really know what would be worse,” he muttered. “I can’t say that I’m prepared to confront him as regularly as I do the other headaches we have crop up, but I’m tired of his shadow hanging over us just out of reach, too.”

Ragnor hummed. “What do you want to do?” 

Magnus sighed, sitting upright again and taking a deep, fortifying breath. “He will likely always try to bother me somehow,” he admitted. “So unless we have some concrete way to guard against him, I think the best I can do is simply to continue ignoring him.” He huffed a laugh. “People like him, Shinyun, the Queen - even Maryse and Robert Lightwood… They aren’t worth any more of my time than the bare minimum. They certainly aren’t worth _your_ exorbitant salary,” he said with a wink, grinning as Ragnor rolled his eyes. “The best we can do is to ignore them, and focus on what really matters.”

“Good.” Ragnor put his folder of dossiers on Magnus’ desk, chuckling good-naturedly as it nudged the ring box aside a little. “I’m all for that mentality – it would certainly make my job easier if you would occupy yourself with nothing but a game of Happy Families for a while. Honestly, with the amount of trouble you seem to attract, I’m surprised you managed to procure _that_ without ending up in the middle of a jewelry heist.”

Magnus snorted. “A jewelry heist? If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’d been watching too many movies.”

“Laugh all you like,” Ragnor said primly. “They do happen. Especially with that escaped Morgenstern madman running about with his goons again.” He raised an eyebrow. “Apparently, the universe has decided that you’re owed a break, though.”

“Apparently so,” Magnus agreed, a soft smile forming as he gazed down at the ring box. Really, he was more concerned with what _Alec_ was owed. Which was, in Magnus’ view, a _perfect_ proposal. 

When he glanced back up, Ragnor was shaking his head fondly. “You have everything ready, then, loverboy? _You’re_ ready?”

“More than ready, my dear cabbage,” Magnus murmured. “More than ready.” 

~*~

Alec blinked awake, groaning at the sudden light coming past the now-open curtains.

“Why are you up so _early?”_ he said, knowing it came out whiny but not much caring. “It’s _Sunday.”_ Nevertheless, he still made an effort to sit up in bed, the dark purple sheets pooling around his waist.

Just in time for Magnus to come over and put down a tray beside him, laden with a glass of orange juice and a plate full of French toast. “I know it’s your day off, but I’ve just found out that I have to go into work,” he said, his brow creased in apology. “We’re about to launch a new collection, and New York Fashion Week is already right around the corner. Which means that in addition to the meeting I _thought_ I could do over the phone, I’m also due for a photoshoot - and apparently, it has to be today. The people from _Vogue_ say that their photographer will be there in an hour. Ms. Vex herself will be there to oversee everything, too, so unfortunately I can’t really afford to delegate this. It would be bad form to stand up their art director.”

Alec couldn’t quite help his scowl - though he only figured that out when Magnus chuckled. “Darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous.” 

“No,” Alec denied quickly. “I trust you.” 

Magnus cocked an eyebrow. “But?” 

_“ But,”_ Alec admitted with a huff, “I don’t trust _her._ She looks at you as if she wants to eat you, and she’s always going on about how much you have in common. I mean, I know you two have the same age and many years of experience in a lot of things, but..."he sighed. “Even though I have total faith in you, it doesn’t mean I like her attitude.”

Magnus smiled. “I know, love, but you’re right - you don’t need to worry. Besides, Raphael will be there too. And believe it or not, he does use his grumpy powers for good sometimes; the last time someone treated me like I was single when I wasn’t, his scowl was even more fearsome than yours,” he teased. “He’s always been a man of principle.”

“Well, good. Let me know how many fruit baskets I owe him by the end of the day, then,” Alec grumbled, taking a piece of toast and nibbling at it. 

Magnus hummed in apparent amusement, but then seemed to hesitate. “Alexander, you’re not… you’re not _genuinely_ bothered by her, are you?” he asked. “Because I can handle her, but-”

Alec shook his head. “No, no. You know what you’re doing, you never let her go too far.” He gave a half-hearted smile. “Sorry. I think I’m just grouchy because I thought we were going to spend the day together. Max is even staying with Clary today, so I was kinda looking forward to some time with just the two of us.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Magnus gently brushed Alec’s hair away from his forehead, then pressed a kiss to his temple. “You told me your brother Max will be visiting today, though. At least this way, you've got time to spend a proper day out with just him, right? And then, we can have a special date tonight.”

“A special date?” Alec asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is today some sort of occasion?” He thought he’d memorized all of the significant dates worth celebrating, like birthdays and anniversaries.

“No, no occasion,” Magnus interrupted, smiling. “Just wanted to do something nice with my boyfriend. After all,” he added with a wink, “I am one lucky man.” 

Alec smiled. “Not as lucky as I am,” he said softly. 

Magnus’ smile widened, and he patted Alec’s leg affectionately before pushing up to his feet. “Right. So, go spend the day with Max, and be back here at eight pm sharp, hm? I’ll set up a nice dinner on the balcony, and maybe afterwards, I can show you those new golden and blue bed sheets I bought this week.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You know... test them out a little?” 

Alec snorted. “You’re hopeless,” he declared, shaking his head, but knowing that his undoubtedly fond expression was likely undermining the reprimand. “I’ll be here, I promise.”

Magnus smiled brightly, this time kissing Alec’s lips. 

A few minutes later, he was gone, and Alec sighed, digging into the rest of his breakfast. It wasn’t the day he’d envisioned, sure, but there was no reason it couldn’t be wonderful all the same. In fact, going out and each enjoying the wonderful turns their lives had taken, before coming back home together to swap stories over dinner on the balcony, with a romantic view of the city…

He grinned. Yeah. It was going to be _perfect._

Out in the hallway, Magnus took a deep breath, feeling giddy with excitement as he headed downstairs, off to go kill the few hours he had before it would be clear to come back and set up. Somehow, he fell in love with Alexander a little more every day, and despite his friends’ misgivings, that only cemented his belief that this was the right path to take. 

He brushed his hand against his breast pocket, feeling the outline of the square box safely tucked away there - and dared to hope that after tonight, he would finally be able to call Alec not only his love, but his _fiancé,_ too.

~*~

Magnus’ phone lit up as he tapped the screen. _8:43pm,_ it declared.

He grit his teeth. Alec was forty-three minutes late, and Magnus had officially moved from upset to worried. It wasn’t like Alec to stand him up. Especially without even a text message to apologize and explain.

 _Screw it,_ Magnus decided. His own texts had received no answer. Maybe calling would. 

The first call rang out until it went to voicemail.

So did the second.

So did the third.

Magnus swallowed hard and tried one more time. If this didn’t work, he’d call Isabelle, or Jace, ask–

The line finally connected, and Magnus let out a breath of relief. “Alexander. Darling, where are you? It’s nearly–”

_“Uh, hello?”_

Magnus froze at the unfamiliar tenor voice, stubbornly quelling the curl of suspicion that crept in. It wasn’t possible. Alec wasn’t Camille; he was fiercely loyal, and honest to a fault. “Who are you?” Magnus asked instead. 

_“My name is Malcolm. Do you perhaps know—”_

“Where is Alec?” he interrupted. 

_“Listen, I don’t think he will be able to talk to you right now. He was—”_

“Where _is_ he?” Magnus snarled, the suspicion and anger rearing their ugly heads once more. 

_“If I’m right, he’s in the hospital.”_

Magnus stilled. _What?_

 _“Look, man, I don’t know who this Alec dude is,”_ the man on the phone hurried to explain. _“This phone was in the street, the screen is pretty cracked. I just picked it up when I heard it ringing, but... but people are saying there was an accident here about an hour ago, a hit-and-run. Apparently the guy was in pretty bad shape, they’ve only just finished cleaning up.”_

Magnus’ stomach turned, his cell phone sliding from his grip and thudding down onto the carpet.

 _Things usually end the same way they start,_ Maryse Lightwood's voice seemed to echo, and Magnus thought of screeching tires and shock and _pain_ \- 

_No._ He shook his head. Maybe, he reminded himself sternly, maybe it wasn’t true. This guy obviously didn’t see the accident, maybe he was... he was... 

His phone started to ring, Isabelle’s name flashing up on the caller ID.

Magnus picked it up with shaking hands and answered it. “Isabelle?” he breathed.

 _“Magnus,”_ she said, her voice wavering a little, _“we just got a call from the Hospital of Angel Raziel. Alec was in an accident.”_

Magnus closed his eyes tightly. God, no... 

_“Jace and I are heading there right now,”_ she continued. _“Simon went to Clary’s to help her with Max.”_

“Isabelle?” he forced out. “How bad is it?”

On the other end of the line, Isabelle’s breathing hitched. _“I don’t know the details… but it doesn’t seem good.”_ She paused, and Magnus’ heart clenched at what sounded like a choked-down sob. _“Magnus, the nurse said his skull was badly damaged, that’s why it took so long for them to tell us, because they had to... to stabilize him first, he’s in surgery now.”_

Magnus breathed deeply, fighting down the swell of nausea, and opened his eyes. 

“I’ll meet you there.”

Calling Elias back to the loft would have taken too long, so Magnus had just jumped in the first cab he saw. Which was worth it for the extra time he gained, however much the tinny radio was now grating on his frayed nerves. 

_“…robberies continue, this time at_ Heavenly Jewels _in the Idris Mall-”_

“Could you turn that off?” Magnus snapped at the driver, immediately feeling a little guilty as they startled and rushed to comply. It wasn't their fault, but Magnus was on the thinnest of edges, and he just... didn’t have the stomach to hear about another act of violence. Not today. 

Fuck those robberies. Fuck that Morgenstern guy and his crew. 

Magnus sobbed, burying his face into hands that still ached, even after all these years. 

And _fuck_ all those hit-and-run drivers, everyone who ever left someone bleeding in the street instead of giving a damn about them.

~*~

“And who are you?” the stern figure at the desk asked.

Magnus hesitated for a split-second. They didn’t give out patient whereabouts to just anyone, and boyfriends weren’t exactly considered immediate family… 

The box in his pocket seemed to nudge against his heart, and he swallowed hard. “I’m his fiancé.”

The receptionist arched an eyebrow, seemingly evaluating him - but before they could begin to run it up the chain (or not, perhaps), a familiar voice appeared over Magnus’ shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” Isabelle said, her red-rimmed eyes only slightly detracting from her calm, polite exterior. “He’s with us.” 

The receptionist nodded, apparently satisfied with the checks Isabelle must have already gone through, and they gestured for Magnus to go ahead. 

Which he did, letting go a shuddering, relieved sigh as he stepped into Isabelle’s arms. “Thank you.”

“Of course, just… thank God you’re here,” she mumbled quietly against his shoulder.

They broke apart, and he followed her quick steps to a secondary waiting room, where Jace was sat down, head buried in his hands. “Any news?”

Izzy shook her head, but Jace finally lifted his head, holding out his hand, a battered item wrapped in plastic and unrecognizable in his grip. “They found his wallet,” he said dully. “That’s how they...” He trailed off. 

“...How they knew who to call,” Isabelle finished. 

Magnus looked down at the scuffed leather and took in a ragged, uneasy breath. It was the one Magnus had bought him in Paris - now stained with dried blood, hence the safety bag. Magnus felt like throwing up. 

He shook his head, a futile attempt to clear it. “Someone else found his cell phone,” he murmured. “They picked up when I called, just before you called me. I don’t know how much luck we’d have getting it back, but we can always try.”

Jace nodded, and returned to his hunched-over position. Isabelle sat in the chair beside him, gently looping an arm over his back, leaning them in together for support. 

Magnus paced for a while - but that didn’t make him feel any better, so he took a seat himself - and of course, that didn’t make him feel any better, either.

All they could do was wait.

  
  
  
  
  
  


It was an agonizingly long time before they were called. 

“Family of Alexander Gideon Lightwood?”

The nurse’s face was calm and frustratingly impassive, impossible to read; impossible to know from looking whether the information they carried would bring relief, or shatter all of their hearts for good. “If you’ll follow me, the doctor is waiting down the hall with news.” 

Wordlessly, they stood and followed the nurse down the corridor into an empty room, the same seats as in the waiting room neatly lining the walls and a television on mute over in the corner. 

A tall figure in a clean white coat was waiting for them, and waited for the door to close before starting to speak. 

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Lightwood had-”

-and everything shattered. 

The doctor was still talking, but Magnus couldn’t hear the words; couldn’t feel anything past the dazed jolts as the colors were ripped from his eyes one by one. Meeting and working with Alec, falling in love with him, his world was painted vibrant, reds and blues, oranges and yellows, greens and violets, warm and cool and soft and bright, everything so vibrant and _alive_ and Alec couldn’t… couldn’t…

A scream echoed against the walls. It took Magnus longer than it should have to realize it came from him, the sound ringing in his ears, his hands covering them harshly as he tried to block it out.

White. Everything was white. Even when his eyes screwed shut against the burn of tears and no breath, even when his legs refused to hold him up any longer. No color, no feeling except for this drowning. Heart and lungs empty. 

Because Alexander was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *going to hide under a rock*  
> Please, don't curse me :(  
> *whispers* The tags don't lie


	10. Rainbow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dears <3
> 
> I'm so sorry for leaving you all with that unexpected cliffhanger. But I promised a happy ending, and a happy ending I shall give 😉
> 
> Enjoy the last chapter!!

Alec couldn’t be gone.

_ He's dead. _

_ Alec's dead. _

No. No. No, no, no.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t-

They were going to get married. They were going to live a whole life together, raise Max together, maybe even another kid or two, and they… They…

Someone touched him and he jerked away. Through his light-headedness, he had the distant feeling that the same person was talking to him. But it took several minutes for him to regain a bit of control, to rise gasping from his reeling and focus, at least for a moment.

When he did, he found Catarina looking back at him, still in the green scrubs they wore on the pediatrics ward. 

“Cat,” he choked out, “Cat, Alexander, he… he  _ can’t _ …” 

His voice failed, the words getting stuck - and then he was being pulled into the comfort of his best friend’s arms. “Magnus, I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

Magnus’ voice returned as a sob. “This has to be a mistake,” he said desperately. “ _ Please, _ Cat. Please, I-” He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking enough where he stood that he ended up half-leaning on Catarina, who thankfully seemed to take it in her stride. 

A few long moments later, though, she was pulling away. “Go home,” she said firmly, but not unkindly. “Go get something to eat and take some time to process, all right? I’ll check in on you later, but for now, being at home will do you some good.”

Magnus shook his head adamantly. “I can’t. I need to see him, I need to… to…” He sobbed again, his chest burning cold, his hands aching painfully.

But Catarina fixed him with a stern, sympathetic look. “Go home, Magnus,” she repeated. “Being here is only hurting you - all of you,” she added, turning to Isabelle and Jace, too.

“We can’t,” Isabelle said dully. “The doctor said we have to…” She paused, her throat working for a moment. “We have to identify him, because he…” Her expression crumpled, her voice trailing off.

Catarina seemed to understand, nodding as she guided Magnus to Jace’s side. “I’ll take care of it, but I can guarantee that it takes a minimum of two hours for family members to actually receive that call,” she said, her gentle pragmatism bizarre for the way it cut through Magnus’ swirling thoughts. “So for now, I still think you should all go home for a little while.” 

She looked back at Magnus, then, her frown deepening in worry. Magnus couldn’t blame her. “Magnus,” she said quietly, “do you want me to call Ragnor or Raphael?”

Magnus shook his head. “Max,” he managed to murmur.

Cat nodded again. “Okay. He’s with Clary, right? I’ll call her, let her know to wait for your message before bringing him home.”

_ “No,”  _ Jace suddenly interjected, his voice a croak, his expression a mirror of the devastation thrumming underneath Magnus’ own shock. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here. I can’t- we can’t just  _ leave _ him-” He visibly choked down a sob, and he looked for all the world like he was using every scrap of his willpower to  _ not  _ run into the operating theatre, to  _ not  _ go to Alec’s side, and whatever small fragment of Magnus’ heart hadn’t broken for his own sake shattered then and there. 

Isabelle stepped around them, steely determination in her eyes - to Magnus, she’d always seemed like the ‘fall apart later’ type. At that moment, if he’d been able to muster anything besides a dazed fog or the thick black tar of swelling grief, he might have envied her for that. “Jace, come on,” she said, quiet but unyielding, ushering both him and Magnus towards the door. “Cat’s right.” She briefly looked back at Catarina. “Thank you. You’ll call us if…”

Her voice petered out again, but Catarina gave a small, sad smile. “I’ll keep an eye on things, and I’ll call one of you the moment there’s anything you ought to know,” she promised. 

She met Magnus’ gaze once more, the kind of immense sympathy there that he hadn’t seen from her in years, hadn’t  _ needed  _ to see. 

Isabelle guided them out of the room, and the door snicked quietly closed behind them.

The moment they were out of sight, Cat collapsed into the nearest chair, burying her face in her hands.  _ Fuck.  _ Magnus, Magnus was... God, he looked so  _ broken,  _ she hadn’t wanted to see that again, for fuck’s sake, hadn’t he been through  _ enough ?  _

She gave herself two minutes of anger and heartbreak; for Alec’s siblings, for a life cut too short, for Magnus’ devastation. 

Then she opened her eyes, pushing to her feet and striding from the room. Magnus needed her focused right now, coordinating Max’s return home and reporting any updates from the hospital. 

She made her way towards the nearest admin checkpoint - pulling up Clary’s number on her phone as she did - and tried her best not to worry that this time, Magnus’ heart had been broken for good.

~*~

Magnus followed Isabelle, barely feeling his own footsteps, floating through corridors that all looked the same. Towards the exit, he knew that much. Towards a world where Alexander didn’t exist anymore.

The ring box hidden in his breast pocket - so warm and light earlier - now felt like cold lead, spilling out of its case to crush his chest, his lungs, his heart. 

He had to contain an abrupt urge to take it out of his pocket and throw it as far away as he could.

His eyes blurred with fresh tears as they kept walking. 

_ Alexander… _

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

Magnus froze.

Because  _ that _ was… that voice was... 

He whirled around, the breath punched from his lungs, the twin gasps of Jace and Isabelle barely noticed either side of him. 

Because Alexander was _ right there,  _ a relieved smile on his face and a tiny crease between his eyebrows as he walked towards them. "How did the hospital even know to contact all of you? They told me-”

He kept talking for a moment, but Magnus couldn't hear him anymore. Alexander was  _ here,  _ and he had a small bandage just above his left temple but that was  _ it _ \- a small bandage, not a broken, bloodied body.

Magnus sobbed again, his heart squeezing up into his throat when Alexander's eyes blew wide with shock and worry. “Magnus? What is it, what's wrong?” 

He stepped forward, but hesitated just shy of reaching out to touch, and Magnus closed the gap because he had to  _ know, _ had to know that this was  _ real. _

His hand touched a warm, solid chest. 

Magnus collapsed into it. 

“You're  _ here,” _ he breathed. He was shaking like a leaf, he knew, but Alexander's arms came up to steady him and he let out a giddy, broken laugh. "You're  _ alive." _

_ "Alive?" _ Alexander's voice was alarmed, too loud for a hospital corridor, but it was the best thing Magnus had ever heard. "Of course I... why  _ wouldn't  _ I be-" 

He paused, a deep breath echoing against Magnus' own chest. “I only had a concussion,” Alec said helplessly, his confusion obvious. “What the hell did I miss?”

There was silence for a moment.

Then: "You died." Jace's voice sounded numb. 

"They  _ told  _ us you died," Isabelle amended, and Magnus shut his eyes tightly, curling further into Alec's hold and mercilessly strangling the whimper that wanted to escape. "They said that you were... you were hit by a car, that you-" 

There was a ragged, high-pitched breath, Isabelle's voice halting and Jace's returning, closer as the two siblings appeared at Magnus' back, rounding him until they could reach their brother too. "They found Izzy's number in your wallet," Jace mumbled. "They called, said you were in surgery. And then the doctor told us you hadn't made it."

Magnus pulled back in time to see Alexander's eyebrows shoot impossibly higher - before his breath hitched in apparent realization. "Ah." His voice was quiet, a little sheepish. "I, uh... I think I know what happened. Let's... let's find a place to sit down, yeah?" 

Alec led his family over to a small waiting room in a quiet offshoot corridor, unsurprised by the way they crowded in around him - Jace didn't even take a chair, just leaned against the back of Izzy's - but still unable to avoid the small swell of guilt. 

_ They told us you died.  _

He cleared his throat, pushing that aside for now, gripping Magnus' left hand tighter in his right. “So… I was robbed earlier,” he started, and three pairs of red-rimmed eyes widened almost comically around him. “I was at that big jewelry store at Idris mall, and this guy came in and held it up. At gunpoint." He swallowed hard, trying not to get lost in the adrenaline of the memory, grateful when Izzy's arm curled protectively around his back. "He just wanted the jewels and the money, so I kept my head down. But then he threatened this old lady, got all suspicious that she'd called the cops - and she looked like she was about to have a heart attack, so...” 

He only realized how long he'd stopped speaking for when Jace prompted him. "So?" 

He rubbed his neck and licked his suddenly-dry lips, resisting the ridiculous urge to laugh.  _ Oh, they won't like this part. _ “I told him to back off, got between them. I know it was dumb but I couldn't... I couldn't just  _ stand  _ there, you know?" He shrugged. "Anyway, that clearly pissed him off. He took my wallet and my cell phone, and then he hit me. Hard. With his gun, I think." He let out a long breath, trying to steady himself, trying not to feel too scrutinized by the incredulous stares still fixed on him. "I woke up here, and they told me I had a concussion. They wanted me to stay put and rest a while longer, but, ah… after they told me they didn't have any emergency contact info on file - I mean, makes sense, no ID and all - I didn't want to wait any longer to come and let you guys know what had happened. That's where I was going when I ran into you; to find a phone I could borrow.”

His story finished, he waited for them to absorb it. It was kind of… a lot, after all. 

Izzy was the first to break the new spell of silence. “They…” She blinked, still looking a little dumbfounded. “They said that you –  _ he  _ got pretty badly scraped up. Between that and the-” she swallowed  _ "head injury, _ that would probably explain why they couldn't tell he wasn't you." 

Leaning against his shoulder now, curled almost defensively against his side, Magnus shuddered, and Alec looped an arm around him, wordlessly holding him a little closer. 

Suddenly Jace cackled, albeit humorlessly.

“Jesus, Alec.” He ran a hand roughly down his face, his voice raspy and as exhausted as he looked. “Only you. Only  _ you _ could frickin'  _ die _ and somehow come back. I'd say  _ as if by magic, _ but honestly my money's on sheer stubbornness.”

Alec snorted, and it felt strange to laugh after the day they'd had, but also weirdly good. “Yeah, well, I  _ had _ to be that stubborn. What's the alternative - leave you guys alone to fend for yourselves? Not a chance.”

Izzy grinned, bright and mischievous against the smudged makeup on her tear-stained face. "Good. You better keep it that way," she threatened softly. 

Alec grinned back at her, then at Jace. He had to settle for pressing a kiss to the top of Magnus' head, for now, his boyfriend still burrowed against his side - and that was worrying, sure, but he was  _ there,  _ and Alec was there, and they were safe and together and that was enough. 

"Don't worry," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."

~*~

The ride back home was quiet. Jace and Izzy had eventually taken their leave, so now it was just Magnus and Alec in the back of the taxi home, and it seemed that neither dared to start a conversation. The whole time, they kept some physical contact; holding hands, sitting with their sides pressed together, or Alec's arm looped around his boyfriend's shoulders. Magnus clearly needed the reassurance, and Alec needed to offer it. 

When they reached the lobby, Magnus was still dazed, letting Alec guide him up to the loft, to the safety of home.

And Alec… Alec was worried that he had  _ astronomically _ messed something up.

Which was proved  _ exactly  _ right when they entered the loft and he took in the scene before them.

There was a trail of red rose petals and long-burned-out candles leading to the balcony. More flowers were scattered and placed outside, around a beautifully-arranged table adorned with yet more candles, petals, and covered plates, the dinner underneath them no doubt gone cold hours ago.

“Oh, Magnus…” Alec’s thoughts flooded with shame and guilt. “I'm so sorry for ruining our dinner.”

But Magnus shook his head, a strained chuckle escaping him. “Darling, you are more important than any dinner,” he said quietly, but firmly. 

He traipsed over to the couch, falling back onto it and burying his face in his hands with a soft groan - and for the first time since they met, Alec felt entirely lost. What the hell was he supposed to say? How could he even  _ start  _ to make this better? 

Kneeling on the floor in front of his boyfriend, he looked at him with an earnest expression. “Magnus, talk to me, please," he implored softly - because that, at least, was a starting point. "Tell me what's going through your head.”

Magnus shook his head, not answering - but his hands twitched insistently in his lap, and Alec sucked in a sharp breath.  _ Oh _ . The accident. Because the guy who stole his wallet didn't just run into any old misfortune.

_ Fucking coincidence. _

“Okay, I think I get it," Alec said evenly. "This must have been more than just scary for you, right? Maybe kind of… familiar, too." 

Magnus flinched hard at the not-quite-question, fruitlessly trying to hold back new tears.

Eventually, after a few endless, silent moments, he nodded. “When I heard it was a hit-and-run accident…" He paused, his breath audibly catching in his scratchy throat. "God, Alec, I thought the worst. You know what happened to me, and you know that despite the damage to my hands, I was pretty lucky overall." His face crumpled, and Alec reached out instinctively, one hand soothing up and down his thigh. "But they told us that you'd... that your  _ skull  _ was damaged, and then when they said you were gone, I…” He gulped hard, furiously wiping the tears away from his face. “Sorry. God, this isn't about me-”

"It's okay," Alec reassured quietly. It wasn't, not by any means - but Magnus needed to say this, and he needed to hear it. "Go on. I already promised Catarina I’d take care of you, and things are always easier to deal with when they are out in the open, right?" 

"So wise," Magnus almost chuckled, even as he looked down at his hands once more. “I like to think that even if that accident had never happened, we could still have met in a different situation," he murmured, a small smile twitching into place. "We have Clary in common, after all, so maybe…" He shrugged. "Maybe one day, at a get-together with friends? At a bar, or a park, or Clary's home... perhaps I always would have met you. I certainly hope so." 

His smile fell, his breath turning ragged once more. "But instead, you came into my life because once, years ago, an act of careless violence took something precious from me. And today, that same kind of violence almost - or rather, I  _ thought  _ had taken yet another precious thing from me." He glanced up, meeting Alec's gaze. "One that I honestly wouldn’t know how to live without anymore,” he murmured. 

Alec looked back at him, feeling unshed tears in his own wide eyes. "Magnus…" He trailed off helplessly for a moment. "I'm still here.  _ We're  _ still here." 

"I know," Magnus said softly, a sad smile crossing his face as he shifted forward a little, closer to Alec. "I know that, darling. And I'm so grateful for it. But I'm still... I can't help but think-”

He shuddered, his voice cutting off, but Alec heard the unsaid words anyway. 

He nodded, taking a deep, steadying breath. Then he gently claimed Magnus’ hands in his own grasp, kissing each fingertip, each knuckle, each palm - a familiar, comforting affection he'd offered dozens of times before.

“I can’t promise nothing bad will happen to me,” he said carefully. “I’m not invincible, but I can promise that I’ll always try my damnedest to come home to you, okay?” He looked up, meeting Magnus’ eyes once more, as sincerely as he could. “You know that my family is everything to me, and that includes you and Max. I’d fight tooth and nail to come back to you.”

Magnus' eyes brimmed, but he nodded slowly, his hand reaching out oh-so-gentle to brush just below Alec's bandage. 

“You called your actions stupid," he murmured, "but I hope you know you were incredibly brave, too." His fingers were light over the faintly swollen, purpled skin. "Does it still hurt?” 

“A little bit," Alec said honestly. "But I’m fine, I swear.” 

Magnus nodded, apparently appeased - but then he frowned, his hand drawing back. “What were you even  _ doing _ in a jewelry store?" he asked, sounding baffled. "I don't think I've  _ ever  _ seen you wear any jewelry.” 

“I was... buying an ear cuff,” he blurted out, his voice a little high but hopefully casual enough. Still, he cleared his throat before trying again. “Do you remember that rose gold ear cuff you saw last weekend?" he asked, only continuing once Magnus nodded. "I saw how much you liked it before Max ran after that poor zombie.”

Magnus chuckled.  _ "Kill the demins,"  _ he quoted fondly. "I should have known there'd be a downside to your wonderful storytelling, dear. Though I suppose it could have been worse than Max sprinting off after random cosplayers."

Alec grinned. “Yeah. But that's why I was there. I went back to buy it for you,” he explained. "Thought it would make a nice birthday gift." 

Magnus' expression softened, and Alec tried not to feel guilty. After all, it wasn’t  _ entirely _ a lie. He did intend to buy the ear cuff. 

Whether he'd also intended on turning up to dinner with a pair of engagement rings was by the by. 

“Stupid ear cuff…” Magnus mumbled, and Alec squeezed his hand lightly. He would love to go and actually buy it one day, but after all of this, maybe Magnus wouldn’t want it anymore. He’d have to wait and see. 

And as for his proposal… that would probably need postponing, too. Perhaps his original plan would have been well-received, the romantic spontaneity of it all; but not now. Not when this attempt was undeniably tinged with fear and sadness. 

But that was okay. Alec would make a new plan, and wait, and choose the most perfect moment he could. 

Magnus deserved nothing less.

~*~

Maybe Alec was biased, but Magnus was undeniably the most beautiful man in the whole world. Seeing him tonight - so happy, fully in his element - would be enough to make  _ anyone’s _ heart fit to burst with pride and contentment, he was sure. 

They were in the biggest room on the ‘event floor’ of  _ Magnificent Fashion _ , at a bustling party celebrating the launch of Magnus’ new collection - the company’s first line exclusively designed for kids. 

The fashion show was, of course, utterly adorable. The kid models were professionals, but Magnus had done his best to make sure that they felt more comfortable and relaxed than at a typical runway show, encouraging them to run and jump and wave to their families and friends.  _ After all,  _ he’d said with a smile,  _ if I made kids’ clothes that couldn’t hold up to a bit of running around, I wouldn’t be very good at my job, would I?  _

The very youngest kids were accompanied by their parents, and a light-up sign above the runway reminded the audience to keep their applause to moderate, baby-friendly levels. 

Alec also thought it was a nice touch that all of the adults walking the runway with their kids were single parents like Magnus himself. People who knew intimately how difficult it could be, balancing a job with being solely responsible for a child, he’d explained - especially considering that many people couldn’t afford the sheer amount of quality childcare Magnus could. This particular job would give those models a chance to work without having to worry about that factor, for once.

He’d explained all of his reasoning, hands animated, voice turbulent with excitement, and Alec swore he’d fallen a little bit more in love.

Jace, Izzy and Simon had been invited too - after all, Clary had received a prominent design credit for this particular collection. And naturally, BatMax (a nickname which, much to Magnus’ chagrin, wasn’t going anywhere) was there too, playing with the other kids over in a cushioned corner of the room that had been turned into a veritable playground, complete with slide, seesaw, ball pit - even pogo sticks. Alec was fairly distracted, watching fondly as Max played - which was why he nearly jumped out of his skin when someone grabbed his arm. 

A quick glance revealed his sister, resting her head against his shoulder and thoroughly ignoring his mild, disapproving frown. “He seems a lot better,” she commented - clearly not talking about Max, and Alec’s gaze flicked upwards to the obvious place hers was resting too. Magnus was on the other side of the hall, a mostly-full glass of champagne in his hand, the other waving animatedly as he conversed with Catarina, Ragnor and Raphael. There was a wide smile on his face, evident even from across the room. 

Alec couldn’t help but echo it. “He still has some nightmares, but he is gradually getting better,” he acknowledged, though he didn’t look away from his laughing boyfriend. 

Almost three months had passed since the accident-that-wasn’t. A few brief assessments had revealed that Alec was pretty unaffected by his own debacle - but the scare his family had gone through had clearly reinflamed Magnus’ trauma, and he’d been re-diagnosed with PTSD. 

He went back to therapy, fairly easily fitting back into the same approach that had helped him recover years ago, after his own initial accident. 

Alec stayed close, not wanting to hover, but knowing that being present was helpful. When Magnus woke from a night terror, he’d be there to talk him down, reassure him that they were both safe. When the ache in Magnus’ hands got worse - as far as they could tell, some combination of added awareness and an increase in physical tension due to stress - Alec would massage them gently throughout the day, pressing kisses to each knuckle and fingertip in an attempt to soothe both body and soul. 

The first month was the hardest, no doubt. Magnus was obviously badly shaken, and his protective side became overzealous to the point where he half-ordered, half-begged Alec not to walk the streets as he usually did, sidewalks that had seemed perfectly safe before the accident now seeming fatally dangerous in Magnus’ mind. He hired another driver to work the times when Elias was off-duty, just to be  _ certain _ that if there was anywhere Alec wanted or needed to go, there would be no risk of him ending up as the pedestrian in another accident.

Alec was exasperated, almost frustrated some days - but he dutifully summoned all of his patience and avoided the risks Magnus was afraid of. Fear wasn’t always logical, after all, and the last thing he wanted to do was make Magnus feel even less steady. Fortunately, things were getting better - he could now  _ carefully _ cross a street without supervision, and without coming home to find Magnus mid-panic attack.

Which left only one last hiccup.

“When are you going to propose?”

Alec almost winced. Sometimes he swore Izzy could read his mind. Maybe it was a sibling thing. 

Also - "Not so loud," he admonished. "Knew I should have kept it to myself. One of you is definitely gonna blow my cover." She and Jace had known since even before the accident, and he appreciated the support, of course; but he'd also rather keep  _ some  _ of the surprise secret, thank you very much. 

"Oh, please," Izzy complained, but she did lower her voice a little, too. "I’d never give it away, and Jace and Magnus can’t go two sentences without snarking at each other.” She smirked. “Doesn’t leave a lot of room for it to come up, you know?”

Which, Alec had to admit, was a valid point.

"So?" Izzy prompted. "When?"

“I don’t know,” Alec admitted with a sigh. “For some reason, I don’t think the traditional ‘special dinner’ is a good idea anymore. Too similar to bad memories, you know?” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “The only problem is, I also can’t think of a decent alternative.”

Isabelle hummed understandingly, then smirked. “At least you were able to buy the rings without a disaster this time.”

Alec rolled his eyes. Both Izzy and Jace had demanded to go with him this time - to the same jewelry store, too; because as Jace pointed out,  _ no one robs the same place twice - _ the two of them determined to make sure he wouldn’t go astray protecting old ladies or being robbed.

His siblings were ridiculous.

And he loved them a lot.

“Why don’t you ask for their help?” Izzy suggested, nodding towards Magnus’ friends. “They’re his family, right? They’re the ones who know him best.” She shrugged. “Maybe they could point you in the right direction; something Magnus has always wanted to try, maybe? Or just a place he loves, where he feels really comfortable.”

Alec considered that for a moment. If there was one place where Magnus felt the most comfortable, a place he loved the most…

He grinned, an idea suddenly shifting into focus. “I may know a place already,” he murmured, “but if I’m gonna pull it off, I could use his friends’ help to distract him.” 

He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the top of his sister’s head. “Thanks, Iz. What would I do without you?”

Izzy’s smile was genuine, but she chuckled. “Well, my best guess is that your sweater collection would be even worse off than it already is.”

“Oh, shut up.”

~*~

“Magnus, you should know that if you don’t get your ass out of that chair in the next thirty seconds, Raphael is going to turn off the power and you’ll lose whatever you’re doing.”

Magnus’ eyes snapped up from the monitor, and despite his irritation at being interrupted mid-thought, he smirked a little. He knew very well that it wasn’t an empty threat; after all, Raphael had done it before, whenever Magnus’ tendencies to overworking crossed a line into truly unhealthy. 

This time, however, the reason for a forced interruption was a little more lighthearted, and a lot more baffling - a private, friends-and-family clothes-making competition, Magnus the only judge. He’d initially been quite confused as to why Clary would suggest that, and his suspicions only heightened when  _ Ragnor _ agreed to it, even going so far as to ask his secretary to book them a room with a stage for rehearsals. By the time  _ Alec _ agreed to participate, Magnus was  _ certain _ they were all up to something.

He had an idea, of course, and he didn’t quite know how to feel about it. Because yes, the last few months had been rough, and although he wasn’t truly an alcoholic he was self-aware enough to know that his relationship with drink could be healthier. Apparently - unsurprisingly, after the second and most recent ‘episode’ ended with him breaking down and crying his heart out to Ragnor and Catarina - his friends agreed. 

It was nice to be cared about, but he’d honestly been doing a lot better recently; so he’d hoped that his loved ones could have stopped worrying so much by now.

“Bapa!” Max ran full-pelt into his office, promptly wrapping his arms around Magnus’ legs and hugging tight. Magnus steadied himself with a chuckle and took his son into his arms instead, kissing his cheeks until Max started to giggle. He certainly looked the part for this ‘fashion show’ - he was wearing maroon denim overalls with a panda face emblazoned on the chest, a black-and-white striped shirt peeking out from under it and tying in with the black beanie on his head - as well as his favorite Batman backpack, of course.

Ragnor also appeared in the doorway and stood next to Catarina, a little disheveled and breathing hard.

“Bloody hell, how do you have the energy to deal with him?” he wheezed. “It’s like he’s got an infinite battery. I almost lost him with all the running around.”

Magnus smirked. “Blueberry, you will get an extra cookie for dessert tonight for behaving so well with Uncle Ragnor and helping him get his exercise,” he said airily, smiling all the wider at Ragnor’s scowl. “So, what do we say?”

“Yes!” Max cheered, then turned to Ragnor. “Thank you, Uncle Green.” All of Magnus’ friends had special names for Max. Cat was Auntie Blue, and Raphael was Uncle Raph – that was as far as he’d allowed them to stray from his full name. And of course, Ragnor was Uncle Green, due to the amount of green he liked to wear. Once, whilst having a conversation on this topic in a café, Magnus had suggested ‘Uncle Horn’ after Ragnor’s prowess at entertaining Max with his  _ cor anglais  _ repertoire. Unfortunately, Max’s enunciation at the time had needed a little work, which had resulted in him yelling ‘Uncle Horny!’ at the top of his lungs and drawing quite a bit of attention. Ragnor had been mortified. (Naturally, Magnus and Catarina had laughed to the point of crying.) 

Magnus took off his spectacles, leaving them on his desk, then followed his friends to the elevator - where Raphael was already awaiting.

“So, who is going to join in the fun today?” Magnus asked. 

Raphael tapped the screen of his iPad and dispassionately read out the list of contestants. “Clarissa, Tessa, William, James, Isabelle, Cocky Blonde, Chatterbox, and your Gamer Boy.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “You’re not funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“Good, because you wouldn’t know a good joke if it hit you in the face.”

Max, who’d been busy playing with Magnus’ necklaces, suddenly gasped. “Who is going to hit Uncle Raph’s face? That’s mean!” He looked determinedly over at Raphael. “Uncle Jace promised to give me a sword. I protect Uncle Raph.”

“Uncle Jace doesn’t know what he is talking about.” Magnus tried very hard not to roll his eyes. He would need to have  _ another _ conversation with Blondie, at this rate. How Alec had so far resisted the urge to strangle his brother was a mystery to Magnus. “He’s just a bit of a joker, Blueberry.”

“Nooo!” Max whined. “Joker’s bad. He hurts people. Uncle Jace is nice and I love him.”

Magnus frowned in confusion for a moment, but then it clicked. Batman references, naturally. Was it too late, he wondered, to redirect Max’s superhero obsession to Miraculous Ladybug, or possibly even Avatar? Spiderman was out of question, of course – Alec might well have a heart attack if Max started to cart around all that spider-themed merch.

Luckily for Batman, however, the elevator soon  _ ding _ _ed_ , its doors opening straight onto their destination.

The room was beautifully decorated - multi-colored flowers lined the walls and seating area, and dozens of banners bearing the Lightwood runes were strung from the ceiling. Magnus’ gaze wandered over the different shapes - Alec had once shown him a book containing diagrams and translations of each of the runes, both the childhood originals and a few new additions from Clary, but Magnus was yet to memorize all of them. Some of them were easy to remember, like the one which looked like a ‘Z’ crossed in the middle –  _ Deflect, _ if he remembered correctly. That one was one of his favorites.

There was also a big rune drawn on the center of the stage – the one that resembled an ‘A’, and which Alec had always liked to trace on Magnus’ skin while they were cuddling. Even so, it had taken some time for Alec to reveal the meaning of that particular rune.

_ Love. _

Magnus’ heart stuttered for a moment, full of love for that wonderful young man. Once he’d recovered, he noticed the other things in the room; a desk and chair in front of the stage, clearly set up for him as the judge of the fashion show, and a large couch just behind that chair where - presumably - his friends and Max would watch everything with him.

It was still a bit confusing - honestly, his mind was still processing that this wasn’t an intervention after all, apparently - but Magnus would indulge them. It would be interesting to see what his friends had come up with, though he didn’t know how fair to the other contestants it would be having Clary and Alec there, what with their specific experience in designing clothes for a show.

“So, basically, each person will come out with a set of clothes, you give them a score out of ten, and that’s it.” Raphael pushed the iPad he’d been using into Magnus’ hands and gestured to the screen. “The contestant’s names should come up as they each come onstage. Under the contestant’s name will be the initials of the designer responsible for that outfit’s creation.”

Magnus frowned. “Isn’t it supposed to be  _ their _ creations?”

But Raphael didn’t deign to answer that, and just went to sit on the couch with the others.

Magnus was about to call after him and demand an explanation - but at that moment, music started to play, and the first name flashed up on the iPad’s screen.

**Isabelle Lightwood**

**Designer: MB**

Magnus’ eyebrows pretty much shot up to his hairline, confusion twisting his expression below. When he looked back up to the runway, Izzy was indeed walking on it, with the grace of a true model. Her blouse was made of teal satin; the shirred waist emphasized her figure yet still remained demure, as did the gentle closeness of her charcoal pencil skirt. Black ankle boots finished off the look into something smart, feminine, and oddly familiar – though why that last one came into play, Magnus couldn’t quite say. He shrugged it off, giving the outfit an eight, two points deducted for the lack of accessories and for missing an opportunity to showcase a more interesting shoe. 

Simon walked on after Isabelle, the same designer's name flashing on the screen and taking credit for his suit jacket and chinos. The same designer flashed up for Clary’s outfit, and Jace’s - in fact, every single outfit had been designed by this  _ MB. _

It was the watercolor cable-knit bolero, worn by Tessa, that finally clued him in.  _ MB _ was more than a coincidental set of initials - these were  _ his _ designs, a long-forgotten 'event collection', drawn during a sleepless night when Max was about a year old. Left unfinished, of course, his hands too pained to do more than the basic sketches. Apparently, Raphael had dug them up from the archives and found someone to finish them. 

There was only one person who'd proved himself capable of that.

And then there he was - Alexander himself, walking out onto the runway, the sight of him stealing Magnus' breath away. 

His suit was a dark, rich indigo, light velvet in a modern cut, striking over his black shirt. The jacket was embroidered down the lapels and at the cuffs - fine stitching in pale gold, showing several of the Lightwood runes, with the  _ love _ rune most commonly featured. But in true pride of place was the rune on the breast pocket, above Alec's heart. 

Magnus didn't recognize it - but his own heart was hammering too fast for him to pay much attention to that. Because he knew this suit, and it wasn't just designed for any attendee at any old event. 

This suit was designed for a groom.

Unlike the other models, Alec didn’t turn around at the end of the runway - instead, he jumped down from the stage and went directly to Magnus, who quickly rounded the table to stand face-to-face with his boyfriend.

“So,” Alec said, sounding as calm as ever, a soft smile on his face. “What’s my score for this  _ MB _ design?”

“Well, I was tempted to give you a ten,” Magnus commented, a lot more idly than he felt. “But it wouldn’t be fair to judge before understanding all the details, don’t you agree?” He touched the unknown rune lightly with his fingertips, almost reverent, entranced by the beautiful design.

“It’s called the wedded union rune,” Alec said- 

-and he dropped to one knee. 

Alec pulled the small box from his inside pocket, and then looked back up at Magnus, smiling fondly as he met his boyfriend’s wide-eyed gaze. “I know we haven’t had the easiest time of things,” he started. “Not even counting the last few months. People are probably always going to have something to say about our age difference, for one thing; but the only thing I’m sorry for on that front is taking too long to be born, to come along and meet you. And people are probably always going to have something to say about us both being men, too - but I’m not sorry for that one at all.” Magnus chuckled quietly at that, and Alec felt his smile widen. “Because the thing is, everything that’s been thrown at us, anything that’s made  _ this-”  _ he gestured between them “difficult, in any way? Has come from the outside. From people who, honestly, I don’t care about.” He shrugged. “I don’t. I don’t care what they think. I only care about our friends, our family - and you.” Alec swallowed hard, willing his voice to stay strong. “I care about you so much, Magnus. You’re the kindest soul I’ve ever met. You’re the person who makes me understand the term  _ light of my life,  _ because that’s what you are to me. You’re the first person I want to see as soon as I wake up, and you’re the person I want to fall asleep next to. And if you’ll allow me the opportunity, I will spend the rest of my years loving you the way you deserve.” 

Alec opened the ring box, and took a deep breath. 

“Magnus Bane, will you marry me?”

Magnus’ eyes glistened with tears - but at the same time, a smile bigger than any Alec had ever seen told him the answer even before Magnus’ soft words confirmed it.

“Yes. Yes, Alexander, I’ll marry you.”

The bubble around the two of them seemed to burst - around them, their family and friends cheered, loud shouts of  _ congratulations  _ and whistles and applause. Alec blinked the beginning of tears from his eyes, grinning helplessly as he took the ring from the box and put it on Magnus’s finger, being extra careful with the crooked, sensitive middle joint. Once it was in place, the ring looked even better than Alec had hoped - the entire thing was carved from white opal, and under the bright light above them it glowed enough that it looked like a star at Magnus’ hand.

Alec knew that if there were anyone who would deserve that, it would be Magnus.

Magnus – or rather, Alec’s _fiancé,_ and wasn’t that something? – pulled him to his feet and into a searing kiss. “It’s beautiful, darling,” he murmured.

“Well, then it’s no wonder it suits you,” Alec said with a soft smile. “It’s actually part of a set, though. I thought I could wear this one.”

He pulled out the second ring from the same inside pocket, this one without a box. It was identical to Magnus’, except that instead of white opal, it was carved from a striking piece of fire obsidian.

Magnus took it with a small, shuddering breath, and gently slid it onto Alec’s finger. Now that they were standing so close together, the light had changed; rather than stark white light and dark black stone, each ring now glistened iridescent, a subtle rainbow on each of their hands. 

Magnus pressed another quick kiss to his lips, and then stepped away. “Your timing is impeccable, Alexander,” he said with a smirk. “As it happens, someone has an important question for  _ you  _ today, too. Blueberry?”

At those summons, Max ran up to Magnus, giggling as Magnus lifted him into his arms. Alec melted a little, an affectionate thrum twisting in his chest as he realized that soon, this kind of sight would be in his life even more permanently.

“All right, Max,” Magnus murmured, turning so both of them were facing Alec. “You have what you need?” 

Max nodded – and opened his little fist to reveal a tiny plastic ring. 

“I want us to be a family  _ of... officially,”  _ he declared, over-pronouncing the difficult word a little, and a lump rose to Alec’s throat. “Will you please marry Bapa, and really  _ really  _ be my daddy?” 

Alec felt his eyes sting with unshed tears, looking between the ring, Max’s solemn little face, and Magnus’ fond one - and he realized that he still needed to give an answer.

The only possible answer, really.

“Yes,” he breathed out, a wet laugh escaping him. “Yes, of course I will, Max.”

He gently took the ring, pushing it up to the smallest knuckle on his left pinky because that was the only place it fit. Then he took Max in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and holding him close. 

When he looked up again and met Magnus’ eyes once more, they were both crying in earnest - but Magnus looked as overjoyed as Alec felt. 

~*~

**Two Years Later**

Magnus adjusted his tuxedo, straightening his hot pink bowtie one last time and fluffing his hair so that the pink and purple strands were clearly on show, and so that none of it covered the leafy design of his crystal ear cuff. 

But as pleased as he was with his hair and as much as he liked the ear cuff, his favorite detail of this particular outfit was still his hands – namely, the silver rings that swirled and twisted all over them, glowing in the last of the afternoon sun. Alec was the one who’d found out about the store they’d come from – a place dedicated to making jewelry that doubled as finger splints, combining beauty with orthopedic value. Magnus had already spent a small fortune there, building his collection until he owned rings and chains and bands to go along with any and all outfits. The support they gave was second only to his most medical-grade splints; and they were far more suitable for events such as today, making him feel beautiful instead of self-conscious. 

“Magnus?” 

Magnus turned around to face his three favorite people, chuckling a little at the incongruous picture they made. Alexander looked wonderful in his simple black suit, striking and handsome. Meanwhile, Max was in his Squirtle onesie, having not quite grown out of his fondness for them yet; nor his fondness for being carried. He was currently in Alec’s arms, the narrow brim of his firefighter hat  _ (I’m gonna join the Squirtle Squad!,  _ he’d recently declared) brushing up against his dad’s hair and half-ruining the work that had clearly gone into taming it. 

Behind Alec’s legs was Rafael, of course. He still hid away a little – it had only been a matter of months since his adoption, though, so Magnus wasn’t worried. And of course, when Magnus crouched down and opened his arms in invitation, Rafael happily came over and accepted the chance to be carried too, with a smile on his face that was becoming less shy by the day. 

“So, ready to go win a second Oscar?” Alec asked with a grin, and Magnus couldn’t help a grin of his own in return. This time, Magnus’ nomination for Best Costume Design came from his work on _Eldest Curses,_ a movie that was a fusion of modern fairy tales, sci-fi, and the concept of soulmates. 

Max and Rafael had wanted to go along too, of course - but they were too young for the ceremony, even if it hadn’t been scheduled to run beyond after their bedtime. So instead, they were going to stay with Isabelle and Simon in the hotel room next door and watch Magnus’ segment on the TV, while Alec accompanied Magnus alone.

_ You can come next time,  _ Alec had promised - as the Oscars weren’t a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, let alone the  _ twice _ Magnus had been lucky enough to receive a nomination. 

Then again, Alec’s faith in Magnus had always seemed limitless. 

Magnus smiled. “I’m ready,” he confirmed - and then he winked. “Though I must admit, I already feel fairly victorious.” 

And  _ oh _ . Even after all this time, Alec still blushed, smiling bashfully and looking impossibly more attractive.

Regaining his composure, Alec nodded. “Come on then, husband.” Alec held out his left hand, his wedding ring catching the sunset’s light as brightly as Magnus’ jewelry.

_ Husband, _ Magnus thought for the umpteenth time, a warm flutter in his chest as he took Alec’s hand, pulling him closer. “I love you so much,” he murmured.

Alexander’s expression softened. “I love you too.” 

“I love you too!” Max chirped, bouncing a little in Alec’s arms. 

Magnus chuckled. “Thank you, Blueberry. We love you too – both of you,” he added, squeezing Rafe briefly, his heart melting at the way his newest son looked down shyly and nodded. 

Alec, meanwhile, did his usual round of affection – he kissed Max’s cheek, gently booped Rafael’s nose (receiving a quiet giggle in response), and finally tilted his head upwards a little, leaning in to peck a kiss on Magnus’ lips. “Shall we go, then?” 

_ With you, I’d go anywhere,  _ Magnus thought. _ You, my impossible dream turned into reality. _

“Yeah,” he said aloud, lacing his fingers with Alec’s. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course Magnus won his second Oscar. He is Magnus Bane, it's totally deserved 🤭
> 
> There was a tiny reference for TLBOTW, too. Did someone catch it? 😉
> 
> Also also!!!! Magnus' new jewelry in the epilogue? They are a real thing!! There are ring splints for people with medical conditions and pain in their fingers. They are amazing! If you need more information about that, there is this [Tumblr post](https://ti-bae-rius.tumblr.com/post/631065276456288257/having-ehlers-danlos-syndrome-sometimes-feels) explaining a bit and the [website](https://www.silverringsplint.com/) where they are sold. If you know someone who might need it, please, spread the word 😊
> 
> Thank you so much for being here with me until the end. I've never thought this story would become soooo long, but I'm very happy with all your support. Thank you, and see you soon 🥰❤

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://thelightofthebane.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Lah_Hika)!


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